


Lay To Waste

by Demenior, wrecked_anon



Series: Tomorrow I’ll Switch the Beat [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Identity Issues, Nerdy References, Not Season 2 Compliant, Politics, Post Season 1, Rescue Mission, Shiro's Fun Year, Team as Family, Voltron Gen Mini Bang 2017, episode fic, good is not nice, missing memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrecked_anon/pseuds/wrecked_anon
Summary: What was meant to be a simple mission— make contact with the Rebellion and form an alliance— goes horribly awry. Now the team is split up, the Galra are invading, and Shiro's past may prove to be their greatest adversary yet.ORWhen you have skeletons in your closet, you hope they stay dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me on this wild ride of a fic! This story was written for the Voltron Gen Minibang 2017, and I had an absolute blast doing it. Thank you to the mods, all of the authors and artists and supporters who made this all possible. Thanks to all of my hype men who cheered me on, to all of the new friends I’ve made in this fandom, and to my cowriter for the series, who encourages the worst ideas in the best ways.
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> The incredible artwork was done by the lovely Gitwrecked (tumblr) or WreckedAnon (Ao3). Please, please, please go shower her with love and compliments for bringing my characters to life and helping me through some tricky plot choices!
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> [CLICK HERE!!!](https://gitwrecked.tumblr.com/post/163655124070/lay-to-waste-by-demenior-for-the) to see the fabulous cast of characters you already know, and are about to meet!!! Gitwrecked was integral to bringing this story to life :)
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> Now, for you! You lovely gen-hunting visitors! I’m sure you have some questions.
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> Yes, this story is part of a larger series. Do you have to ready the whole series? No! Lay to Waste is intended to be (nearly) stand-alone, as it’s based around Shiro not knowing anything about his past with the Galra, and the entire series is about that past! So you know as much as Shiro!
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> That being said, if you would like to know more, here’s a brief summary:
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> The _Tomorrow I’ll Switch the Beat_ series focuses on Shiro’s incredible will to survive in a horrific environment. He’s assimilated into Galra culture, while developing and maintaining a manipulative, consuming, personal relationship with Haggar (it’s gen, but very intense). The Switch series, essentially, explores how Shiro digs himself deeper, and then the aftermath of when he sets himself free.
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> Essentially, it’s Voltron, but completely au after season 1. And Shiro has a darker backstory now
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> This story is considered the first ‘episode’ in the ‘season’ we have planned. There are some smaller stories that predate this, as you’ll see references to, but anything you need to know for this story is in this story. The fun is catching all the hints or putting together clues from having read the other parts of the series!
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> Another thing is that the Switch series has made some modifications to the alien designs, and we have lots of alien culture too. As you’ll see in Gitwrecked’s art, [the Galra are a little less humanoid and more animalistic.](http://demenior.tumblr.com/tagged/galra-redesign) The biggest change is that they have the ability to largely distend their jaws, and a powerful bite force that can shatter bone. The Alteans are [also different in shape!](http://demenior.tumblr.com/tagged/altean-redesign) But that’s less important, as Altean culture means Alteans stay shape-shifted at all times, so Coran and Allura look just like they do in the show. This isn’t incredibly important, but it makes things a little easier when I refer to the Galra as having muzzles, haha!
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> Links are provided in-chapter for your pleasure, and so you can follow references being made. None are explicitly nsfw, but always view at your own caution!
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> Without further ado, I welcome you to the Switch universe! Please take your time to peruse, immerse yourself, and enjoy the ride!

Hidden away in the recesses of the Kaskada System, deep in the thick jungles of an unoccupied moon, is a glimmer of hope.

A Rebel Base. There is a force here that opposes Zarkon and the Galra. A force to aid Allura and the Paladins of Voltron in ridding the Universe of the great evil that has gone unchecked for so long.

Allura lets the power of the Balmera Crystal flow through her, guiding it gently with her quintessence. The Castle responds with barely a delay, adjusting its speed and the angle of descent. It takes great skill to direct a ship this large, and in the days of Altea there would have been several pilots for such a grand ship, but now there is just her. And Coran, but he has never had the same connection to quintessence that Allura does, and while he is a talented pilot when he can work through the interface, the delicate conversations with the ship and the crystal itself are left to her.

It would do well for her to practice her own magic more. After the distressing incident with Hunk’s capture and Shiro’s magical incapacitation, Allura had realized her avoiding her own skills could be putting her team in danger. She will have to accept that her mother can no longer be her teacher. That her mother is… dead. Alfor and Cenura are gone, but their daughter lives on. Allura will make them proud.

Coran and Pidge are busy with communications and making sure they are allowed safe passage. The Rebellion is almost infuriatingly private and cryptic, but Allura supposes it's for the best. But having to verify passwords and names and their ship manifesto several times over has begun to feel intrusive and insulting. Can they not recognize the beauty of Altean design when they see it?

Of course, given the long absence of any Alteans, it's likely that they cannot.

As a precaution, Keith, Hunk and Lance are on standby for defensive measures. Pidge assures them that they'll be welcome, but Allura wants to be cautious. Rather, Shiro wants to be cautious and they had to agree to his terms before he'd let them force him back to bed. The poor human could barely stand without shaking after his recent near-death experience, and since he can no longer use a cryopod he's been assigned to recover in the natural human way. He assured her he would be fine very soon, and the other humans were able to verify that information.

“ _Dock 9-C is cleared for your arrival. Power down all systems upon landing, and leave the ship open for inspection_ ,” the guide on the radio says.

Allura tries not to fume, and briefly mutes their side of the transmission, “Open for inspection? This is our home! As if I'm going to let them judge if we’re trustworthy or not.”

“Allura,” Coran says pleadingly, “remember the Laws.”

Of course he's right, though. Alteans must always be welcoming and invite trust. They are brokers of peace with nothing to hide. Allura has always had trouble with the Laws, much to her embarrassment. [There’s too much of her Malch in her sometimes.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9675899/chapters/21987404) She's of the Royal Line, and represents the best of Altea. She has to act like it.

“Yes, Coran,” she says after a moment, and unmutes the transmission, “continue.”

The landscape is mountainous and difficult to navigate. They're given coordinates for the landing pad, and Allura readjusts their path as is necessary.

“ _I'm not letting anyone go through my stuff,_ ” Keith says over the headsets.

“ _You got something to hide?_ ” Lance replies in a tone that Allura knows means he's saying two things at once. Humans do a lot of that. Allura chalks it up to something to do with sex. The way Keith responds with loud noises of indignation all but confirm her theory.

For being such a prudish species, humans spend an incredible amount of time discussing intercourse. They're charmingly vulgar that way.

* * *

 

“Dock 9-C ahead, we’re coming in,” Coran announces.

They land without much commotion, and Allura privately congratulates herself on a job well done.

All of the Paladins, minus Shiro, accompany her off the ship. Coran and the mice stay behind to look after Shiro, and, discreetly, to protect the ship and provide cover should anything go wrong.

Not that anything will. These are the people Allura has been longing to meet since awakening in this terrifying future.

It's been so long since she's been in the presence of so many minds, and they all light up in her range so brightly it makes her a little dizzy. Her step falters a tad as she follows the Altean customs. A brief touch of the surrounding thoughts, enough to find what's comforting and familiar, and to project that accordingly. For her humans’ sake, she makes sure they still see her as like them. Their pack mentality tends to rear its head when they're confronted with crowds, and they'll feel safer if they continue to see her as a human as well.

There's a line of soldiers waiting for them, all armed with polished armour and battle-tested blasters. Allura takes careful note of the different armors she sees, trying to distinguish battalions and ranks. They all sport the symbol of the rebellion: three red stars, enclosed in a circle.

There’s a tall alien, with thick, dark hair, four arms, and dressed in a black military uniform with two red stars on either side of his collar. He steps forwards to greet them.

“Princess Allura,” he says, and bows generously, “and Paladins of Voltron, we are humbled to be in your presence.”

After all of the intense questioning, Allura had been expecting a much colder reception.

“I am Prince Rahjim,” the alien introduces himself, “one of the three High Generals of the Alliance.”

Allura dips in a graceful bow, “Well met, Prince Rahjim. Thank you for meeting with us. Will the other High Generals be joining us?”

“Aubra would like to make your acquaintance later, and Slavka— oh, here she comes,” Rahjim pauses to watch her approach.

A new force marches onto the landing pad, headed by a Trur. She’s wearing the same dark coat as Prince Rahjim, which must make her the High General.

Allura feels relieved. She used to have several Trur friends growing up, and enjoyed playing with them in their shape. While they are built similar to Andalites— four long, delicate legs, and an upper torso with two arms and a singular head similar to humans— they are soft and gentle. They do not have the arrogance of Andalties, nor the deadly tail or the constantly-moving eyes on stalks. She’s average height for a Trur, standing nearly as tall as Keith.

Slavka has a blaster on the belt at her waist, though by the shape of it Allura supposes she’s had it modified to fit her slim, weak hands.

The alien at Slavka’s side is an Asari, dressed in a robe not unlike the Druid that Allura and Hunk had fought off to save Shiro on Zarkon’s fleet. Haggar, Allura recalls.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Slavka snarls at Rahjim, “we have protocol for a reason!”

“Slavka,” Prince Rahjim greets diplomatically, but clearly with no fondness, “I believe we have nothing to fear from the Paladins of Voltron.”

“Voltron?” she nods in recognition, and turns to face them, “so you’re the fools who rushed into a suicide mission with only two ships.”

Allura’s spine bristles. Are they being insulted? They'd come here on request! The High General should be _impressed_ by their feats!

“My Paladins bravely came to my rescue,” Allura defends them. Even if she still disagrees with their actions she will defend them to her grave, “you are lucky to have such brave warriors willing to speak with you.”

“If only luck could win us the war,” the High General says sadly, “but it will be strategy and timing, in the end, that will help us triumph,” she pauses her lecture and glances behind Allura, “Are there not supposed to be five Paladins?”

“My Black Paladin is recovering from injury,” Allura says, “he apologizes for his absence.”

"We have a functional cryopod on this base should he require assistance," Rahjim offers.

“No!” Hunk shouts in alarm. He slaps his hands over his mouth, embarrassed at his outburst.

Allura thinks of rushing into the room to find Shiro spewing blood, pale and sickly in Hunk's arms, saved from the pods trying to heal him and somehow making him worse.

"No, that won't be necessary," Allura says.

“No matter, we don't need him at the moment. You are the Captain?” Slavka asks.

Allura nods, “Yes, I am Allura, Princess of Altea.”

“I'm Slavka, one of the acting High Generals in the Alliance,” Slavka extends her hand. It’s a weak thing, as all Trur have, with only three spindly fingers. Allura makes sure to be delicate as they shake hands, despite how badly she’d like to share some choice words with the High General.

Slavka nods to the Asari at her side, “Wyme, scan them immediately.”

Allura senses a surge of quintessence in the Asari and realizes that she must be a magic user. After their recent encounter with Shiro’s near-death at the hands of a manipulated spell, Allura has no interest in letting anyone magical touch her Paladins until she’s trained them to protect themselves. The quintessence branches out, searching for their minds. Allura throws a shield around them immediately.

“Absolutely not!” Allura says, “what is the meaning of this?”

“Are you resisting?” Slavka growls.

“You didn’t even _ask_ ,” Allura says, and steps forwards to block her Paladins, “have manners changed so much that you can just force yourself into someone’s mind without their permission?”

“Manners have no place in war,” Slavka replies coldly, and her hand has gone to her blaster, “you will be scanned for intention or you will be considered a threat.”

“Slavka please,” Rahjim says. He sounds exasperated, “this is Voltron.”

Wyme glances at Slavka for permission, a silent nod that Allura would have missed if she hadn’t been watching, and then Allura feels a direct hit against her shield. It’s strong, and very well controlled, but there’s no skill to it. It’s the kind of attack Allura learned as a child to start moving things with mere thoughts— all blunt force. Wyme handles her quintessence differently than Allura, which under other circumstances Allura would find fascinating.

But Allura is the Princess of the Royal Line, and was born with the flow of quintessence in her veins. She shoves the Asari’s attack back and maintains the integrity of her shields.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Lance pipes up, “we’re Voltron! I don’t think anyone is as Anti-Zarkon as we are! Well, except maybe you guys.”

Wyme looks surprised, and nods acknowledgement to Allura, “You’re very powerful,” she says, and turns to Slavka, “she doesn’t wield like a Druid, though her technique is similar.”

“I’m nothing like them,” Allura informs her.

“Submit or leave,” Slavka orders.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rahjim says.

“I am the War-General,” Slavka reminds him, raising her voice, “and I intend to keep our bases secret enough to continue fighting the war. We break protocol for no one.”

“What’s the deal? I don’t get what’s wrong here,” Hunk says.

“They wish to read our minds, to be sure we are not spies for Zarkon,” Allura informs him.

All of the Paladins falter.

“Are you serious?” Keith asks.

“Uh, I don’t know how I feel about people in my head,” Pidge adds.

“It’s a complete invasion of privacy, and I won’t allow it,” Allura announces.

“Very well,” Slavka says, “we’re done here. Surrender your weapons and you’ll be taken to trial.”

“But you invited us here!” Pidge says, “we’re supposed to work together!”

“Slavka this is ridiculous,” Rahjim agrees.

“You are with us, or you are against us. There is no middle ground,” Slavka insists.

Allura can’t believe this. After all they’ve gone through, all the battles they’ve fought and the people they’ve lost. For all her and her crew have suffered. They’ve fought alone against a seemingly unstoppable force, and here are their allies! They’re turning them away at the gates. This is unbelievable.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lance says, stepping forwards, “so what’s the deal. You need to take a peek into our heads to make sure we’re friendly? That’s it?”

“It’s a breach of privacy,” Allura instructs him, “no one should be forced to reveal themselves like that.”

Lance thinks a moment, and then takes off his helmet, “Well, if it’ll make this work, I volunteer. Take a good look, I’ve got nothing to hide!”

“Lance!” Allura gasps.

“A-are you sure about that?” Hunk asks.

“I am merely scanning intention, not sifting through memories,” Wyme says.

“That is still too much,” Allura mutters.

“Will that be okay?” Lance asks.

Slavka narrows her eyes at him, frowning. Allura’s never met such an unpleasant creature before in her life.

“Yes,” Rahjim decides, “that will be more than enough, thank you Blue Paladin.”

“It’s Lance,” Lance grins, and then faces Slavka and Wyme head-on, “so, uh, how do we do this?”

Wyme reaches forwards with one blue hand, and glances at Allura. She still hasn't let down the shield around them.

"Princess," she asks softly.

Allura could say no, could still refuse this invasion of privacy. How dare they look upon Voltron and assume that she and her crew could be imposters!

Lance looks at her too. He's very trusting. All of her humans are, and they are also very, very brave.

Allura releases Lance from her shield.

Wyme holds her hand mere inches from Lance's face. She closes her eyes, and Allura watches the weaves of quintessence she forms. She's right, she isn't digging any deeper than one should. Allura keeps her power tightly coiled, ready to lash out the instant Wyme does anything that appears like she might hurt Lance.

It takes all of a few ticks, and then Wyme steps back.

"They are who they say they are," she informs Slavka.

"Excellent," Slavka says, and the change in her demeanour is astounding. She actually smiles, "Paladins, Princess, we have been waiting a very long time to meet you."


	2. Chapter 2

"You must understand our side of things. You claim to be the Paladins of Voltron, but Voltron has not existed for thousands of years. And no one knows who or what the Paladins are," Slavka says.

"I do understand," Allura agrees. She does, now that she's had a moment to clear her mind. Slavka was protecting her people, just like Allura does.

Wyme stays just a step behind them. She's clearly Slavka's right hand, and possibly an advisor.

"I admit I haven't seen magic users in quite some time," Allura says to her, trying to show that she feels no ill will, "despite all of the planets we've visited it appears that the skills have been lost in the time I’ve been asleep."

Wyme looks confused, "Well... of course they have. I am shocked you are so young and well-trained."

"Why?" Allura asks.

"The... the Empire kills anyone who shows magical potential. It's as the Matriarch ordered. Her edict started centuries ago. Unless you are Galra, and join her ranks as a Druid, you are killed," Wyme explains. She seems confused that Allura doesn't know this.

"My god," Allura says softly, "what is Haggar thinking? That will destroy the balance!"

"She doesn't want anyone to be strong enough to fight her," Slavka says, "and so long as the Emperor has the only magicians, it makes it that much harder to kill him."

"But things are changing," Wyme says excitedly, "you clearly have had training."

Allura thinks briefly of her late mother, "Yes, when I was a child. The trained magic users were called Accolades then."

Wyme nods as if this explains everything, "But it's different than anything I’ve seen. I've helped start a society of Mages, and we are working at raising magic users with skill and training. So they can control their powers, and grow. We are always looking for teachers or spells to learn, and you weave unlike anyone I've ever seen."

Allura's a little surprised by that.

"Well," Wyme admits, "some of your weaves seem Druid, which made me suspicious of you at first. But you are clearly no Druid."

"I'm not," Allura agrees sharply. She would never be associated with a monster like Haggar or her order.

"This is our main base in this system," Slavka explains, changing the subject.

Allura draws her attention back to the two High Generals.

"We run attacks from here, and maintain our ships. Lately we have been focused on supply trains and gathering new intel. Ever since your attack on the main fleet, the Royal Fleet has been behaving erratically,” Slavka explains.

“You frightened them,” Rahjim elaborates with a happy grin.

They enter the hangar and for a moment Allura feels a thrill of victory. This is a working, active force. The hangar is alive and buzzing, familiar in its frenzy. Allura used to delight in the open ports of Altea, with the constant movement of ships and diplomats.

Her mother always said that her Malch had left her something untameable and wild in her soul. It drew her to activity. Many worried for Allura’s character, given that her parents had chosen a  _ carnivore _ as their primary. They worried when she was drawn to the movement of the ports and the activities of the market.

But Allura longed for people. She wanted to connect. And it thrills her to feel that wash of hurried, busy minds again.

It's a short-lived high. This hangar is nothing like the open ports of Altea. It's disappointingly small, for what Allura had hoped of the Resistance.

Many of the fighters are old models— still new to Allura, but lacking in the beautiful design of Altean technology. The crews are made of surly sorts, not the esteemed diplomats and advisors of the Altean forces.

A small one-eyed alien suddenly leaps from one of the older models in the hangar with a shout, and runs towards them.

Pidge breaks formation and the two aliens leap at one another, clasping each other in human hugs and then leaping back to make what the humans call ‘thumbs up’ at each other. They burst into laughter.

“It's good to hear happiness,” Prince Rahjim says, “Kidjen won't stop talking about his Paladin friend.”

“So this is the crew that passed on your information,” Allura observes. A Na and a Hephalump have come off the ship and are greeting Pidge with familiarity.

Allura turns to Rahjim, “Why did it take so long for you to contact us? We’ve been looking for the Resistance for some time.”

“The Alliance,” Rahjim corrects gently, “Rebellion implies anarchy and chaos.”

“Names are names,” Slavka groans, “call it what you will. We are against Zarkon's Tyranny, that's all that matters.”

“Politics are important,” Rahjim reminds her. It sounds like an old argument.

“Hey, Allura, Kidjen says he wants to give us a tour! Can we go?” Pidge asks.

This is… not the behaviour of a well trained soldier. Allura has to remember that she has enlisted children.

“Very well,” she says, and glances at the rest of her Paladins, “anyone else?”

“I wanna see!” Lance says excitedly.

“Um, I'll stay?” Hunk asks nervously, “I don't wanna be rude.”

“You're gonna ditch out on our job?” Keith points out to Lance and Pidge.

“We’re touring the base, give us cliffnotes later,” Lance retorts.

“Then let's get moving,” Allura says before they can start arguing.

She turns back to Slavka and Rahjim, Keith and Hunk in tow, “Please, lead the way.”

* * *

 

“We’ve been taking systems back from the Galra,” Slavka explains as they enter the War Room. There are stations everywhere, manned and receiving transmissions and intercepting enemy code. It’s very active and busy. Many of the systems are being run on crystals that have barely any energy left. Screens go static, or dead for brief ticks, before continuing to function. Everything feels rough and worn down.

Allura can’t quite believe this is the force that is looking to dismantle an Empire.  They're so.... vulgar. This is not the pristine and organization she is used to from the Altean diplomats. But then again, Altea never had any use for an army. They were brokers of peace, and alliances. They ran the Coalition because the Universe of the past wanted unity and safety, guided by the loving hands of her people.

This is not her universe anymore. But Allura wants to help restore it to the glory it can be. Her family destroyed it, and she will save it from them.

"It's been slow going, but every advancement is a victory," Slavka admits.

"How do you even manage that?" Allura asks. She doesn't want to point out how underfunded and weak the Alliance is in comparison to the Empire, but it's obvious from her tone.

"We plan," Slavka says, "and we make our fights count."

"We hit supply lines," Rahjim elaborates, "we train the locals to fight with us, to throw off their oppressors. The Galra are spread much thinner than they'd like. An organized resistance can often force them off the planet."

"But don't they retaliate?" Hunk asks.

"Of course," Slavka says, "but there are always sacrifices in war. It's a price we must all pay for freedom."

Keith nods in understanding.

"So where does Voltron come into this," Allura asks, "with our assistance we could take Zarkon out once and for all."

It is her sacred duty, to do what her parents could not. She will avenge her parents and bring her Malch to justice.

Slavka snorts, "You want to run back and attack the Royal Fleet? You barely escaped last time."

"How do you know about that?" Keith asks.

"You think those shields fell by themselves?" Rahjim asks.

Allura schools her expression. She hasn't had much time to think of their escape, "You have agents... on the inside?"

"Agents," Slavka scoffs, "hardly. But yes, we have informants. Who inform us when they see fit to tell us things. The Blade of Marmora are our allies, but we do not share the same goals."

"Blade..." Keith trails off.

"A Galra anarchist group," Wyme explains, "they reject Zarkon and all they he stands for. They believe that Zarkon is destroying the Galra by pushing them away from their old traditions and beliefs, and that is the cause of Galran misfortune and misery."

"They work with us because they want to see Zarkon fall, but they've been in existence for thousands of years and have done nothing but listen behind closed doors," Slavka mutters.

"They offer us information we would not get any other way," Rahjim points out, "many of their members have infiltrated Galra high council. They work from the inside to gather data and intel that we need, and in return we have promised to bring Zarkon to justice."

"You're working with Galra?" Allura realizes.

"Less than ideal, but like we said, they give us insider information," Slavka says, "besides, if there's anyone risking their necks to get intel on the High Council, I'd much rather it be Galra than our people."

Allura hopes she never has to meet these Galra. They sound... unsettling to say the least.

"I just can't believe there are rebel Galra," Hunk admits, "I... I kinda thought they were all evil."

"Good and evil only exist in stories," Slavka points out, "it will do you good to understand that."

"As for Voltron," Allura brings them back to the original topic, "what are your plans for us?"

Slavka nods understandingly, "Yes, of course. With your firepower I believe we can start hitting their ports and the stations they refuel at. The more we hinder and limit their scope, the less of an influence or threat they can be. What we seek is to cripple them, until they buckle under their own weight," Slavka explains.

"That doesn't sound very direct," Keith points out.

"It's not," Slavka agrees, "but it's the best way to take them down. We don't have the manpower to take them on head-to-head, and so we must be smart. Starve them out, force them to concede planets to us because the fight isn't worth the reward. The more we weaken them, the greater our status becomes, and the more support we gain."

"Eventually we hope to establish a democratic republic," Rahjim says, "with enough power to make Zarkon submit to us. This war doesn't have to end with violence."

"It does," Slavka mutters.

"So... you want us to attack, and then peace out?" Hunk asks, "cause, like, Voltron has some  _ serious _ firepower. Are you sure that's the best use for us? I mean, I'm pretty happy not being in the middle of huge fights or taking on Zarkon like Keith did, but, uh, that just doesn't sound like you're utilizing us or our skills."

Slavka regards him curiously, "And just what  _ are _ you, anyways?"

"I'm a," Hunk stutters under her stare, "I'm a human. We all are. Oh, wait, do you mean what I do? I'm an engineer! I can build, I love to build, and take stuff apart. And man, let me tell you, space has so much cool stuff to work with. Oh, also, I bake. I love baking. I'm a baker, not a fighter."

Slavka nods slightly, but doesn't respond.

"You will be given access to our private channels," Wyme explains, "and we will be in touch with you to coordinate attacks. Otherwise you will expected to stand by and await further orders."

"So we become your soldiers?" Allura asks, “that is your idea of an alliance?”

"I have not met an Altean in my lifetime," Slavka points out, "in fact, I've only heard about you in legends and history stories. So I am very curious as to how you are suddenly here, in the flesh."

Allura forces herself not to rage, “It’s a long story,” she says. Her humans are fond of the phrase.

Slavka nods as if this all makes sense, "So, clearly, you do not know what you have gotten yourself into. Which is why you will be under my command. Princess, I do look forwards to working closely with you in the future."

"That's it?" Allura asks, "you want to just waste Voltron's talent?"

"Not waste," Slavka argues, "test it. Voltron is all but a legend. We have no idea what it's capable of, or if it's anything useful to us in the modern day. Your people created it thousands of years ago. Technology has advanced."

Allura glances around the room at the archaic, awful energy work done here. No, she thinks to herself, technology has not advanced at all. In fact, she has begun to worry many wonders of the Coalition have been lost to time.

"You are making a mistake," Allura notes, "but, allow me to join you. You're right in that I have missed a lot. Do you have records I can look up on? I need to know all that I have missed."

Slavka nods, "Rahjim can show you the archives. I have work to do."

Allura looks to Keith and Hunk, "Do you two wish to come with me?"

They both seem offended by Slavka's insults, and salute Allura in a human fashion— straight palms to their foreheads, as if showing what good soldiers they are will prove to Slavka that she is wrong about them, "Yes Princess," they say in unison.

Allura smiles, and allows Prince Rahjim to take lead for them. She would like to be away from Slavka for a time, if possible. It will give her the opportunity to think of how to show the High General that she is wrong about Voltron and the Paladins.

Prince Rahjim takes long strides out of the hangar, and Allura has to move a little faster to keep up with him.

Keith and Hunk are keeping up with them. Allura’s actually quite proud of how well her Paladins have been behaving without Shiro to keep them in line.

A new ship has just arrived, and Rahjim slows to a stop as the crew unloads from it. Allura can spot Alliance insignia on their clothes, and one of the aliens has the same uniform as Rahjim and Slavka.

“The third High General?” Allura guesses.

“Aubra,” Rahjim says loudly, catching the attention of the High General, and then says to Allura, Keith and Hunk, “xie flew in when we had word you would be joining us today. Aubra has always been fascinated with the legends of Voltron.”

Aubra heads towards them. Xie has a very interesting head shape, with most of xir skull being transparent, filled with some sort of mildly green liquid, and xir eyes floating around inside.

“This is Princess Allura of the late Altea,” Rahjim introduces as Aubra approaches, “and the Paladins of Voltron.”

“Voltron!” Aubra gasps. “The stories are true!”

“Yes,” Allura greets, “it is nice to make your acquaintance, High General.”

“Have you spoken with Slavka yet?” Aubra asks.

“The other High General,” Allura says tentatively, “she is… intense.”

Prince Rahjim sighs, and smiles apologetically, “Again, I am sorry that Slavka was your welcome to our base. She is a High General, but she is…”

“She has a way of doing things, that isn’t necessarily the best,” Aubra elaborates.

Allura truly does not want to get dragged into gossip or any fights between the High Generals of the Rebellion.

“I would like to discuss a partnership between the Rebellion and Voltron,” Allura says.

“And we will,” Prince Rahjim says, “but please, allow us the honor of touring our base. Are you hungry? Would you like to stop for refreshments first? When was the last time you were off your ship for any length of time?”

* * *

 

They end up getting some food from the base canteen. Allura appreciates that Prince Rahjim and Aubra make no appearances or show any contempt for eating the same food as their soldiers. They’re led to some tables that are on the edge of the eating area. Keith and Hunk take seats at the end of the table, helmets off and soaking in the sunshine. Allura had forgotten that humans crave daylight. They’re similar to Alteans that way.

“Princess we are delighted to finally make contact with you,” Rahjim starts.

“Why didn’t the Rebellion contact us sooner?” Allura interrupts, repeating her question from earlier, “it would have been much more beneficial if we could have had an alliance long ago.”

Both Rahjim and Aubra look surprised by her forwardness.

“Alliance, not Rebellion,” Rahjim corrects her with a wink, dismantling the tension.

“Apologies, if we have offended you,” Aubra says, “but you must understand the delicacy of our operation. There have been many outspoken opponents of the Empire, and they have all been eradicated.”

“Except for you,” Allura observes.

“Except for us,” Rahjim agrees, “because caution is key to survival. We High Generals rarely meet in the same place, for fear of drawing Zarkon’s eye. In fact, Aubra and myself will be leaving tonight.”

It makes sense. Don’t keep your leaders all in the same place, because it just makes them easier to kill.

“And we must handle many false claims. Voltron has been found a hundred times over since it’s disappearance,” Aubra explains.

“What?” Hunk jumps into the conversation. Allura hadn’t been aware they were listening.

Aubra moves xir hands as xie talks, the webbing in xir fingers is translucent in the sunlight, “Voltron was a symbol of power, and it became one of hope. It belonged to the Alteans, who were the first to fight the Galra when they began their war on the Universe. ”

“I know that,” Allura says sharply, “I was there. It was my people who died for Zarkon’s betrayal.”

“You truly are the Princess, then?” Rahjim asks, a little awed.

“My father sealed myself and his most trusted companion in cryopods, and hid us on a faraway planet to keep us safe. We were awakened when the new Paladins of Voltron were brought together,” Allura explains.

“Yes, the Paladins,” Aubra sits up, and turns to face them, “you are… unfamiliar to me. Whereabouts do you come from?”

“We’re, uh, not from around here,” Hunk chuckles.

“We’re the first to leave our planet,” Keith says, “you wouldn’t have met anyone like us before.”

Both Rahjim and Aubra are intrigued by this.

“You’re from an undeveloped planet? And Voltron chose you?” and for a moment Allura can hear the worry in Aubra’s voice.

Zarkon had been the same. A creature whose species were mostly feral, uncivilized things, who had been chosen to lead the Universe’s most powerful creation.

Allura has noticed these parallels more than once.

But Allura also knows the hearts of her Paladins. She never had a say in her parents' choice for their primary, and she understands their reasons for their actions. She just wishes they hadn't been so blind to his treacherous nature. Never trust a carnivore.

"I can assure you these Paladins are as brave and pure of heart as the Paladins of Old," she informs the High Generals.

Keith and Hunk preen under her praise.

"So you are from which planet?" Aubra presses.

"One that the Empire hasn't heard of yet," Keith answers vaguely.

"Outside the Empire! And you're fighting to stop it," Rahjim remarks, clearly impressed, "how very fitting for noble Paladins."

"Yes," Allura agrees, "I am very pleased with the Lions' selections. They chose well."

"They also chose Zarkon," Aubra says darkly.

"And rejected him," Allura replies sharply. Maybe a tad too sharp. Aubra keeps a neutral face but Allura can tell she's offended xim.

"Perhaps we can see the great Lions," Rahjim asks, "I won't lie, I'm incredibly interested to see them in action. We've all grown up with the legends of Voltron, and it would be a dream come true to see the Lions in real life."

"The Prince is also an avid pilot," Aubra mentions.

"I'd love to show you," Hunk says, "I mean, I'm sure you'll see Voltron at work at some point or another, but, like, I bet Yellow would love to get out in the sunshine. "

"But in the meantime," Allura redirects, "I believe we were going to go discuss the archives? I want to know what your current plans are, and where Voltron may fit into everything."

Rahjim and Aubra hesitate briefly, "Well," Rahjim says, "as you know, Slavka is the War-General. I handle politics, and Aubra is our main treasurer. Together we balance out what the Alliance has become. She would be the one who you will work closest with."

"She plans to waste her resources," Allura reminds them.

"We may disagree," Aubra says cooly, "but Slavka has made this Alliance into the force it is. We would not be here without her. I may have issue with her choices at times, but I will always defer to her judgement."

"So she's your leader," Allura realizes, "you three share the same rank, but she is the true leader."

"Of course not," Aubra insists, "we are all High Generals! The Alliance runs with three leaders for a reason. We are  _ not _ like the Empire."

"No," Rahjim says, "she's right. Slavka wasn't even a High General— actually, she didn't even attend her promotion. She filled the role, and she was so effective that we couldn't demote her if we tried. The Alliance rides on her shoulders. Aubra and I are here to support, and we keep it running around her, but she is the driving force."

"So you can't do anything for me," Allura surmises.

"I wouldn't discredit us so quickly," Rahjim says with a smile, "we may not have the authority that Slavka does, but we are still High Generals. I promised you information, and I have some hours left before I must depart. Come along, Princess, Paladins, and allow me to share some information."

Prince Rahjim has an easy confidence that makes him likable. Allura remembers that he said he is involved with politics. That makes sense, then, that he has charisma for that. She'll have to make sure she isn't fooled by his charm.

Keith and Hunk jump up to follow as Rahjim leads them on. Aubra departs, citing the need for other duties.


	3. Chapter 3

"Here are our archives," Rahjim says, drawing them into a dark room. The system is like the main control room, all put together with patchwork quintessence and more cords and wires than Allura has ever seen. It's gaudy and brutal in design, and barely seems to function.

"Why are all of your systems like this?" Allura asks, "can you not spare anyone to get you functional crystals?"

"Crystals?" Rahjim repeats, "oh! You mean the Balmara crystals?"

"Of course," ALlura says, "those are the cleanest energy. And renewable. I know the Galra still use them, so why not you?"

"We would use it, but only Druids can harness that kind of energy," Rahjim explains, "I heard legends that in the past all technology was run on quintessence and crystals, but no one knows how to use it except the Galra now."

"Because Haggar killed anyone with the knowledge or skill to find out," Allura realizes.

"Likely," Rahjim agrees, "it sounds like many skills have been lost under Zarkon's reign. For now, sometimes we can make some crystal energy work with stolen Galra technology, and with the aid of our Mages, but most of us must rely on engineering and modern technology for our efforts."

"The loss of my people hurt many," Allura says softly. Zarkon destroyed the Coalition, destroyed Altea and sent the entire universe into the dark ages. She can't believe all they've accomplished without Altean technology, but at the same time her heart aches for what a prosperous time the last ten thousand years could have been had her people lived on.

Perhaps war would have been eradicated by now.

"So can you catch us up quickly?" Keith asks, "Slavka said something about supply routes."

"Of course," Rahjim agrees, and moves to a central panel. He hits a few buttons, inputting code and verification, and the central frame lights up with a display.

"Here are all current Galra supply routes," he says, and the display becomes a map not unlike the one in the bridge. Allura notes that some stars and systems have moved or altered shape. Even the Universe has changed in the time she's been asleep. These stars are no longer the same that her father or her Malch explored.

The display lights up with purple lines, zipping throughout galaxies and systems.

"Now, these highlighted are main routes, mostly which supply the Royal Fleet or the Druid's work. If we can hinder those, then the higher-ups feel that and it makes it harder for the Druids to make their weapons. Lately they've begun new ones— heavily guarded and we don't know why."

Some of the lines light up red.

"These all return to the Royal Fleet, and we think it has to do with the Druid work."

"Have you intercepted any of them?" Allura asks.

"Of course," Rahjim nods, "they are _well_ guarded though. This is a very precious substance, but our Mages and our analysts cannot determine why."

"What is it?" Hunk asks.

"A liquid," Rahjim explains, and hits a few more buttons, calling up an archive. They see now a container with a dark, viscous liquid inside, "it's iron-rich, along with various other micro-nutrients in it. We don't know the origin of it, or it's intended purpose. It's artificially made, and carries no natural quintessence. It's only come up in the last year, and there's more and more of it being shipped around."

"If we could locate a plant... would that help?" Hunk asks, "like... maybe finding out what this stuff is all about would be a really big deal?"

"We have contacts already working on this, but the Galra keep this secret well guarded," Rahjim explains, "and the Blade of Marmora don't think it's worth their time to investigate it."

"We can do it," Allura says, "we'll infiltrate a production compound and see if we can find the source code. If it's being manufactured it must be made off of some original."

"Find the original, find the intention," Rahjim agrees.

"Good. That will be a good use of Voltron's time," Allura decides, "rather than waiting for Slavka's call."

"It's not quintessence?" Keith asks again, "cause I saw them gathering a lot of quintessence in vials. When I fought that Druid."

"You fought a druid?" Rahjim gasps, "and lived? My god you Paladins are incredible."

Keith shrugs off the praise, but his cheeks are a little pink, "Yeah. They're scary, but I can handle myself."

"I must say, I am very impressed," Rahjim admits.

"So," Allura says, "can you sanction this mission for us, or do I have to go to Slavka?"

"I believe this would be a useful mission for your team, but perhaps we should run this past the War General," Rahjim agrees, "it's best to not get on her bad side."

"She has one?" Hunk jokes, "she was so pleasant!"

Keith snorts, and then puts on a better face when he notices Rahjim is looking at him. Allura reminds herself that they're acting without Shiro to keep them in line. They mean well, but they are all still children.

"Then lets return," Allura says, " I want to head out as soon as possible. Is there any way for you to give us all of the information on these trade routes?"

"Of course," Rahjim agrees, "I'll get my aide to collect them for you. While we wait for that, can I finish the tour of our base for you?"

Allura hates to stand still. It's one of the things she struggles most in being a diplomat. She wants to move forwards, she wants action and she wants to be decisive. SHe also wants to get something productive done so Slavka can eat her words at thinking Voltron was best used just sitting on the sidelines. She wants to prove that they're important and a strong force and a complete asset to the Alliance.

"Of course," Allura says politely.

Rahjim is a good man, Allura thinks. And he will be a helpful ally in the future. It would do well for her to not offend him. And knowing what else the Alliance is working with will be beneficial to her. Perhaps she can start ushering in the return of Altea by bringing back the power of the crystals to these people. It will help them grow stronger as a force against Zarkon too.

"Then please, princess, follow me," Rahjim says.

 

* * *

 

"This place is so cool!" Pidge shouts.

"it's one of the bigger bases," Kidjen admits, "there's a lot more to do here than the other bases."

"Do you live here all the time?" Lance asks.

"No," Kidjen says, "we stop in here for visits and to refuel and get new assignments, but we spend a lot of time travelling between bases. I do repair work wherever I'm told to go."

"But you get to travel," Pidge points out, "that should help in finding your sire."

"Yeah," Kidjen agrees, "I've seen a lot of cool stuff. And Parent-Sue and Arc are really good to me."

"Your dad is gone?" Lance asks.

"Kidjen’s sire was arrested by the Empire," Pidge says, "around the same time my dad, Matt and Shiro got taken too."

"We're going to find them all," Kidjen says proudly.

"Awesome," Lance agrees, and then pauses, "okay, look, I gotta ask— why is there this huge fence? Is that for protection? Like, to keep enemies out?"

"Kind of," Kidjen admits, "this planet is uninhabited for a reason. A long time ago I guess there were people living here— they built the temples after all, but they're all gone now. And now there's too many things out there that wanna kill you."

"Like what?" Lance asks excitedly.

"I don't know," Kidjen admits, "anyone who went out into the jungle... hasn't come back/"

"Really?" Pidge asks with a shudder.

Kidjen laughs, "No! I'm just kidding," and then he gives the humans a thumbs-up, "but they only go into the jungle if someone crashes out there. No one ever survives on their own. Sometimes you can hear the animals out there, but they stay away from here. There's lots of traps and fences to keep them back, but you don't wanna mess with them. I saw one of the rovers when the squad came back— it looked like something took a bite out of it!"

"Whoa," Pidge and Lance echo, mystified.

"You think they ate whoever used to live here?" Pidge theorizes.

"Maybe," Kidjen shrugs, "oh! Oh! See this building!" he dashes forwards, "you're not supposed to, but if you climb to the top you can get a great view of the jungle. There's lots of other temples here too."

"Be cool to check those out," Lance muses.

Pidge and Kidjen give him shocked looks.

"Like, in Blue or something. No way am i going out there in the death jungle," Lance laughs.

"Can we climb up there?" Pidge asks, pointing to the temple top.

"Of course," Kidjen says, "but don't let Slavka catch us, okay? She's scary when she's happy, so you don't want to make her angry."

"Or Allura," Pidge notes.

"How long do you think they're gonna be?" Lance asks, glancing around, "do you think we should hang out and wait?"

"No," Pidge snorts, "Allura loves to chat about alliances and making deals and peace. She'll go on forever if they let her. We should do all the exploring we can."

Pidge takes two steps before stopping to turn to Lance.

"Maybe we should grab Shiro?" Pidge realizes, "he might wanna check this out too."

Lance grimaces, "Allura says he should stay in bed still."

"But you know Shiro," Pidge says, "he's not going to do that."

"I know," Lance sighs, "I can't believe Allura made him stay on the ship."

"I can't believe he _did_ stay," Pidge says.

"Shiro is your leader?" Kidjen inquires.

"Yeah!" Lance lights up, "didn't Pidge tell you about us? Shiro's' the best!"

"Pidge mentioned that Shiro was captured by Galra," Kidjen says, "but nothing about the rest of you."

"Pidge!" Lance shouts, wounded.

Pidge rolls their eyes and starts walking towards the temple, "I was busy, okay! And you're lucky I didn't spend all my time gossiping or else I wouldn't have found the rest of you!"

Lance hurries to catch up and affectionately gives Pidge a shove, "Yeah, well, you should talk about me more often. I'm awesome."

"You're _annoying_ ," Pidge whines, and shoves back.

Lance trips in surprise, and Pidge takes off running before he can catch them. Kidjen has to run to keep up with both of them.

_WOO-WAH-WOO-WAH_ an alarm sounds.

Pidge, Lance and Kidjen skid to a stop.

"What's that?" Lance demands.

"Galra!" Kidjen shouts, "let's get to the command center, follow me!"

The three youth take off in the other direction, heading for where they'd met with Slavka earlier. A crowd is beginning to form, with pilots running to their ships and support crew getting them ready for takeoff. The hangar is as busy as a disturbed anthill, aliens scrambling everywhere. Lance, Pidge and Kidjen have to duck and weave in between legs and bodies to force their way into the crowded command room.

"Someone give me a report!" Slavka shouts. She's standing up on some sort of platform that makes her easy to see in the room. If Lance's heart wasn't beating so fast, he's almost laugh.

"Galra fleet in the area," someone calls.

The display in the room lights up, showing the location of the Reel base and the Galra ships having just exited a wormhole nearby in the system.

"Are they tracked on our location?" Slavka asks.

"No ma'am, we don't believe so."

"Then what are they doing here?" she snaps.

"We are doing our best, but they aren't transmitting any information. This doesn't seem to be an investigative fleet," someone says.

"So someone get me eyes on them," Slavka yells, "we need to know why they're here!"

"I could do that," Pidge says but not loud enough to be heard, "Green could sneak up to them."

"Sssh," Kidjen scolds, "lets see what they decide. I'm not going into battle with you again."

Pidge snorts. Lance figures it's some sort of inside joke.

"Visual recieved," a voice called. The room is quiet.

"It's a supply train. Not very well guarded. Prison ship confirmed."

"Not well guarded?" Lance repeats, "hey, we should hit them."

"Do we engage?" someone asks.

"Are you sure they're unaware of us?" Slavka repeats, "have we cut our radio? Do our ships know to stay away?"

"Yes ma'am," she's told.

"We can't afford for them to find us," Slavka repeats.

"But prisoners," Pidge hisses, "my family could be there."

"We should take them out!" Lance calls.

All heads turn to them.

"I mean, Voltron and the Rebels," Lance stammers, "it'd be pretty scary. Make the Galra think twice about coming back here."

"If we sent a small fleet, to make it appear as if they were coming in to intercept them, rather than defending a base," Wyme remarks, "it could work."

"I do love to trouble the Empire," Slavka muses.

Prince Rahjim and some other freaky-looking alien with a transparent skull hustle into the room, Allura, Keith and Hunk are right behind them. Lance and Pidge take note of their uniforms and the insignia.

"The other High Generals," Kidjen whispers, "Rahjim and Aubra."

"Slavka, what's going on?" they ask.

"Galra fleet," she informs, "a supply train, and prison transport."

"They don't come through this area," Rahjim points out.

"Obviously they do," Slavka snaps, "clearly they're trying out this route after the Voltron fiasco."

Lance and Pidge smile and stand a little taller.

"Are you engaging?" Aubra asks.

Slavka glances around the room, "It's best to drive them off," she decides, "we can't have them passing this close to our base. Sound the word, we're engaging."

"Voltron too!" Allura calls loudly, "my Paladins will be there to fight alongside you."

"Is your Black Paladin well enough to fight?" Slavka asks.

"He would not turn down the opportunity," Allura says, "and my other Paladins are highly skilled even without being able to form Voltron. We shall make these Galra wish they'd never come to this system."

"Hell yeah!" Lance shouts, "lets kick some Galra ass!"

 

* * *

 

"Hey Coran, Shiro, how you guys doing?" Pidge's voice comes over the radio.

Shiro's head snaps up. The mice crowded on his shoulders all sit up at attention too.

He's been pacing the bridge and driving Coran mad since the team left and he was ordered to stay in for more bedrest. They haven't heard back from anyone yet, and Shiro's just about ready to go find someone and learn what's going on. He hates being in the dark like this.

Coran leaps to reply, "Hullo Number 5! Your fearless leader and my dashing self have been waiting to hear from you1'

"What was that alarm?" Shiro asks, cutting in.

"Galra," Keith growls over the link, "we're on our way back to you right now. We're gonna go fight them off with the Rebels."

"Shiro," Allura says gently, which means she's on a private line, "do you feel ready to fight? I do not think we will need you if you're not better yet."

Shiro doesn't meet his gaze when Coran looks at him. Instead he stares down at the controls. He still feels sick, and like he's full of cotton. But that's to be expected when he was under a curse and the cryopod tried to rearrange his insides.

"I'm fine," he says, trying to sound like it, "it'll be good to do something."

Lance cheers loudly and Coran and Shiro wince at the burst of noise.

"Shiro," Coran says softly, "you shouldn't push yourself..."

"I'll be fine," Shiro insists, "I can't just sit on the sidelines. Besides, Allura said this won't be anything too crazy. I'll hang back for the most part."

He doesn't let Coran get another word in, and runs to his station to suit up for battle.

 

* * *

 

The Alliance Fleet launches before the Paladins are able to.

"Hunk! You need to work on your endurance," Lance teases him, "you're holding us back!"

"Pidge is too!" Hunk shifts blame.

"Hey!" Pidge pants, finally getting into their Lion. They hit their switches and feel their Lion rumble to life around them.

"Everyone ready?" Shiro asks over the comms.

"Yeah!" The team responds enthusiastically.

"Paladins please remember this is our first battle alongside the Alliance," Allura informs them gently, "I'll be staying with Slavka and the other High Generals in the War Room. Remember your training. Make them proud to fight alongside Voltron."

"Affirmative," Shiro agrees for them.

"Be safe, Paladins," Allura adds, "and give them hell."

Lance _ya-hoo_ 's as they launch into the sky.

 

* * *

 

The fight is underway when they arrive. Alliance fighters spin and dive around the Empire ships, who are raising their shields and getting ready to deploy defensive measures. The Galra purple accents stand out against the darkness of space surrounding them.

"Let's take down those shields," Shiro orders, "and give some backup. Hunk, Pidge, go for the shields on the big cruiser to the right. Keith, Lance, give the Rebels some backup. I'll go for the shields on the prison ship."

"Aye aye," Pidge replies.

The Paladins split up, moving to their assigned tasks. Hunk barrels ahead of Pidge, hurtling headfirst into the raised shield of the Galra ship. His lion bounces off, tumbling head over paw. Pidge pulls up at the last second, just skimming the surface of the shield with some sparks of power.

"Whoa!" they shout, "that was too close! I just got Green all fixed up."

"I think I'm gonna need a new paint job," Hunk groans, getting his Lion stabilized.

Pidge focuses on the ship in front of them. They need to get through, and there's always a weak point on shields.

"Hah! Take that you quiznaks!" Lance shouts.

"Lance, watch out!" Keith shouts.

Green's sensors light up, indicating an incoming fighter. Pidge twists the controls, the Lion responding as easily as thought, and the roll. An Alliance fighter comes from beneath them and shoots down the Empire ship.

"Shiro it's gonna be tricky getting to these shields," Pidge calls over the comms.

"I can see that," Shiro replies, "one lion alone can't overpower them."

"Well..." Keith says pointedly, "we did want to make a statement."

"This is our first appearance together since Zarkon's ship," Hunk points out.

"We need to redeem ourselves!" Lance shouts.

"Shiro?" Pidge asks, "what do you think?"

They hear Shiro chuckle, "You know what? Let's do it, team. _Form Voltron_!"

 

* * *

 

They cut through the generators easily. The shields fall and the Alliance fighters descend. In the face of Voltron's might, the Empire fighters are like insects. Keith activates his bayard and Voltron's sword decimates half a dozen with a single swipe.

"Excellent work!" Allura calls over the comms.

"Paladins!" comes Slavka's voice as she cuts in, "the supply cruiser is attempting to wormhole! You must stop it or it will get reinforcements!"

Through the bond humming in all their minds, focused and strong as a singular unit, they turn Voltron to spot the cruiser. It's engines are roaring to life. To be caught in it's wake is dangerous, they have to stop it before it can make the jump. Fighters from both sides are clearing the area before it goes.

"Oh no!" Hunk shouts, and their attention is diverted.

The prison transport ship, full of Empire prisoners, has a damaged engine. It's falling into the atmosphere of the planet at a rapid pace. The hull is beginning to glow red— and damaged like this? It's going to fall apart and burn up. Everyone will die.

"Stop the ship!" Slavka orders.

"The prisoners!" Hunk shouts.

"My family!" Pidge screams.

"Voltron, engage the ship! The prisoners are not your priority!" Slavka orders again.

"Shiro?" Keith asks. They can all feel him, poised and ready to spring in any direction.

"Voltron respond!" Slavka shouts.

"Are we really gonna let them die?" Lance asks nervously.

Shiro grits his teeth. They were supposed to make Allura, and them, look good. But they can't be in two places at once.

"Voltron protects the people," Shiro decides, "save the prisoners!"

Voltron races across space, leaving the ship rapidly approaching launch behind.

Singularity courses in the Bond. This is right, this is what they are meant to be doing. Save the innocent, save the day. They don't let people die in order to gain victory.

The shockwave of the cruiser wormholing almost knocks them senseless. It sends the damaged cargo ship into an even faster freefall, and Voltron has to apply all they've got to reach it in time. They can barely slow the fall at first, it feels like a momentous task. But they are a team with the strength of legends and the lives of the universe resting on their shoulders.

"Hold on!" Shiro calls. The atmosphere is burning up around them, it's getting unbearably hot.

"We're not giving up!" Hunk insists, speaking for everyone.

And, bit by bit, the ship slows. The friction of descent decreases, and the prisoners are going to live. Voltron guides the ship to the ground. The Alliance cruisers swarm around it, picking off the last of the Empire fighters that were abandoned by their ship and left to die. Pieces and chunks of destroyed fighters from both sides litter the upper atmosphere. They'll fall into orbit and burn up soon enough, leaving no trace that this battle ever happened.

Voltron disbands into the five lions as soon as they touch down. They hop away from the landing pad, parking just out of the way for the fighters following behind them. There's a rousing cheer, as soldiers storm the prison ship to clear out any remaining sentries and free the prisoners inside.

Shiro hits the ground running. He knows for a fact that Allura is getting read the riot act, because of his decision. He contacts her on a private line, hoping she has it open.

"I'm on my way," he insists.

His team, still ghosting in the aftermath of the Voltron Bond, all pick up on his single-minded goal of getting to Allura and start jogging after him without making a conscious decision to do so.

Shiro shoves his way through crowds, and ignores the shocked gasps as seeing a Paladin of Voltron. At seeing the _Black_ Paladin of Voltron.

He has a rough idea of the base's layout from the jumbled collection of everyone else's' memories. And common sense helps, so it doesn't take long before he finds the War Room. He can hear Slavka shouting from outside the door. Lieutenants and Colonels lurk nervously outside the room.

Shiro pushes through them, Keith and Lance hot on his heels with Pidge and Hunk bringing up the rear.

"If you think I am going to let my army be run by a bunch of undisciplined, backwater savages with a leader who can't even keep them in control—"

"They are doing what Voltron was _made_ to do!" Allura snarls in Slavka's face, "you were willing to let those people die!"

"They could come back with reinforcements!" Slavka shouts.

"Their engines were damaged, they can't get far enough," Allura explains, "they might have even broken apart wormholing! Besides, if they return, we'll fight them! That's what we're here for!"

"Not to be reckless, quiznaking anarchists! You might as well be working with the quiznaking Blades!" Slavka shouts.

"Hey, hey!" Shiro calls, "it wasn't Allura's decision to save the prisoners. It was mine."

Slavka fixes Shiro with an icy cold stare.

"The Black Paladin," she says slowly, "how nice of you to finally make an appearance."

"I'm sorry we disobeyed," Shiro says sternly, "that was my decision as leader. But we couldn't let those people die. We're the good guys here."

"There is no good and evil in war," Slavka hisses, "there are the victors and the losers, the living and the dead. And you may have just pushed us into the latter categories!"

Shiro takes a breath to calm himself, "Wait, here, I'm sorry," he reaches up to take off his helmet. He'd forgotten he still had it on, "can we try again? My name is—"

Slavka's eyes widen and a shout of alarm rings through the crowd around them, "It's Champion!"

All of the officers around them draw their weapons and have them locked on Shiro before she finishes speaking.

“What gives?” Lance shouts.

"Slavka! What are you doing?" Allura shouts.

"You brought him into _my_ base?" Slavka's nearly spitting with rage and shock, "you brought him _here_! And you’re trying to be our ally?"

Keith already has his bayard drawn, shield and sword ready to defend his leader.

“He's not Champion!” Pidge explains, “that was all an act for the Galra!”

Slavka laughs, and she's drawn her own gun and has it trained on Shiro too,”You believe that? You say you oppose Zarkon and the Galra, you say you're 'good _'_ , and yet you defend Haggar’s familiar from prosecution?”

“Familiar?” Shiro echoes. He remembers Haggar— the witch that tried to kill him on Zarkon's ship. She hates him!

“Would you prefer lover? I'll be honest. We're not sure if you're her partner or her pet,” Slavka sneeres.

“The Galra held Shiro captive for quite some time,” Allura elaborates, speaking calmly to try and decrease the tension in the room, “but he's not and never was loyal to them. He was a prisoner, and he wants to see them fall just as much as we do.”

“Not loyal? You are mistaken,” Slavka says, “Champion is the reason one of our most important missions failed. We were to capture the Druid, Zarkon’s right hand, and instead Champion killed ten of my bravest soldiers.”

“Killed?” Shiro repeats, “I don't… I don't remember that. But I'm not a killer! Are you sure it was me? It doesn't sound like something I would do. There has to be a mistake!”

“You don't remember?” Slavka mimics, mockingly, “how convenient. I'll be happy to jog your memory but you won't take another step until you're muzzled and in chains.”

“What?” Everyone shouts.

“Absolutely not!” Allura says.

“Then we have no business here,” Slavka holsters her gun, “and if you are not with us, then by definition you are against us.”

Some of the guns trained on Shiro shift, now targeting everyone on the team.

“This is ridiculous!” Keith says.

“The Alliance opposes the Galra. We do not make deals with them,” Slavka explains, “Champion is a dangerous warrior who will answer for his crimes against freedom.”

“He hasn't committed any!” Pidge snaps, and summons their bayard. Lance and Hunk summon theirs. It's a stand-off.

Shiro can see more Rebel soldiers around them, out in the hall too, blasters all trained on his team. There is no way they can come out of a fight like this without taking serious damage. Besides, they need this alliance with the rebels. They all want the same thing: to see the end of Zarkon!

“Stop, stop!” Shiro says, and steps between his crew and the guns, holding his hands up in what he hopes is a universal symbol for ‘Don't shoot’. All of the soldiers flinch and even take a step back. Only Slavka stands still, but her hand goes to her blaster, “I'll do it. We all want the same thing here. No one has to get hurt over it. I'll wear the chains, okay? But not the muzzle, and I promise no trouble. Is that okay with you?”

“All or nothing,” Slavka says. Her fingers are still on her weapon, “you'll be muzzled and chained, or there is no deal here.”

“Why?” Shiro asks, “I'm not going to bite anyone. Humans don't have any jaw strength— I couldn't do much damage even if I wanted to.”

Slavka grins, and it’s feral on her small, dainty face, “It's nothing personal. This is the procedure for any Galra we take captive.”


	4. Chapter 4

"Any _what_?" Allura shouts in disbelief, "he is _clearly_ not a Galra!"

"We don't know what he is, but he's on the High Council," Slavka growls, "Wyme, secure him. That arm is Druid, I know it."

"No!" Allura demands, "you won't touch him—"

She's struck by something invisible and crumples to the floor.

"Allura!" Shiro shouts, and steps forwards. Blasters are raised, the sound of weapons charging to fire rings loudly in the room. Shiro freezes, hands in the air, and hopes no one is nervous enough to shoot.

"She's unharmed," Wyme assures Shiro, "and we will leave her that way if you comply."

"I haven't done anything," Shiro insists, "like I told you: I’ve lost my memories."

"Wyme," Slavka orders.

The Mage speaks several low power words, and twists her fingers. Shiro's frozen in place, and hears a sound like an engine powering down, and then his right arm feels so heavy that it makes him stumble. Keith lunges forwards to duck under Shiro's arm, supporting him. Shiro stares at his prosthetic in shock. It's dead weight. He can't move his fingers.

"It's deactivated," Wyme insists, "I've blocked it. It's attached to his quintessence somehow, I can't sever the connection entirely without further inspection."

"Get Mages on him at all times to maintain the block. Now, Paladins, submit or you will be treated as hostiles," Slavka orders.

"Slavka, please, the Paladins clearly do not know what's going on," Rahjim steps forwards to kneel beside Allura. He checks her vitals as he talks, "did we need to resort to this?"

"She would have protected him," Wyme says quickly, "and she's powerful. I had to act fast."

"Cuff him!" Slavka orders, never taking her eyes off of Shiro.

"Shiro?" Hunk asks nervously.

"It's okay," Shiro says, blinking back into the moment, "it's going to be okay. Stand down."

Officers move forwards, and Shiro feels a kick to the back of his leg that forces him to his knees and he drops his helmet to the ground. Keith snarls, and Shiro twists to grab his wrist with his left hand to keep him from raising his bayard, "No!" he orders.

"Don't you dare hurt him," Pidge growls, and dismisses her bayard.

Shiro's arm gets yanked behind his back and his wrists are cuffed securely. He feels cuffs around his ankles, painfully tight around his armor.

"Don't take your gun off of him until he's properly secure," Slavka orders, "he's Haggar's Right Hand for a reason."

Keith grits his teeth and Lance steps in, knocking his shoulder into Keith's, to take over for Shiro's inability to keep him calm.

Shiro's dragged to his feet, and then a wrench is shoved in his mouth. It's secured in with cloth to form a very crude and uncomfortable gag.

He has enough time to take one last worried look at his team before he's hauled out of the room with no less than six drawn guns escorting him away. Wyme follows, her eyes lit up with magic.

"We're going with him," Keith announces, and strides forwards, only to be met with the business end of several blasters.

"You will do no such thing," Slavka growls, "you are all to be placed in custody for questioning."

"No," Keith says, "we're taking Allura back to the Castle and you're going to give us Shiro and then we're going to leave and pretend we never met you."

"Dude," Lance hisses, "we're not really in any position to be giving orders."

Slavka narrows her eyes, "I am not above putting the Paladins of Voltron in chains if they resist justice."

"We'll answer questions," Hunk decides, "no chains. As soon as we know Allura is okay."

"And why you think Shiro's a Galra!" Pidge insists.

Keith cranes his neck to try and see down the hall they took Shiro. There's nothing. He has to resist screaming in frustration. Who knows where Shiro is? What they're doing to him? If he's even _okay_ after this kind of treatment!

“Look, Shiro was held captive by the Galra, but he lost his memories,” Lance tries to explain, “if you know anything, please help us. But Shiro’s a good guy. He’s the Black Paladin!”

“He’s _the_ Black Paladin!” Hunk insists, “the Leader! The Black Lion chose him!”

“Just like it chose Zarkon,” Aubra reminds them.

The Paladins all feel their stomachs churn uncomfortably.

“People make mistakes? Even ancient robot lions,” Lance shrugs weakly.

“We’re not people you want to make enemies of,” Keith says coldly, staring Slavka down.

“Neither am I,” she replies, meeting his gaze.

 

* * *

 

Allura wakes up in a rage. She’d been gathering her energy to block Shiro, prepared to fight Wyme and _all_ of her Mages if that’s what it took to save her Paladins, but she hadn’t been expecting Wyme to have learned from earlier. Stupid, foolish mistake. Allura absolutely must pick up her training again. She needs to be stronger so she can protect everyone.

“Allura!” Lance calls excitedly.

He’s kneeling over her, and grinning brightly.

Things must not be all bad, if he’s smiling.

“Shiro?” she asks worriedly.

Lance’s face falls, and Allura takes in their surroundings. They’re in an office, or a common area, it appears. No windows, and only one door. They must be underground. Perhaps this is a storage room?

She’s been set on a worn bench, but otherwise it’s quite barren. They must have removed most of the furniture when the Paladins and her were locked inside.

“We haven’t seen him,” Lance sighs, “they’ve been asking us all sorts of questions about him. But they won’t tell us where he is.”

“Or what they’re doing to him,” Keith growls.

“Would you knock it off!” Lance snaps, “you’re freaking us all out! Shiro’s gonna be fine!”

Allura wishes she could agree with Lance. But with the fear and the rage that everyone had responded to Shiro with… it’s very likely that he won’t be treated well.

But her Paladins need soothing. Allura is their commanding officer. And an Altean. She knows how to make peace.

“Lance is right,” she says softly, “we’ve been in worse situations. We’re all worried for Shiro, and we’re going to get him back.”

Keith stares down at his toes from where he’s leaning against the wall. Lance’s lips are thin with worry, and he tries to smile for her again. Pidge and Hunk are sitting on the floor, backs to the wall and watching her move.

“They don’t believe that Shiro is good, or that he doesn’t remember,” Pidge says weakly, “they think he’s tricking us. And they think that Shiro’s done a lot of awful things.”

“They keep talking about the mission he apparently messed up,” Hunk adds, “and that he… that he killed people.”

“Aubra’s with Slavka,” Keith says gruffly, “we need to talk to Rahjim. He’s the only one who might listen to us.”

Allura approaches the door and resists the urge to just kick it in. This is ridiculous. She’s glad her Paladins let the supply ship go during the battle. Hopefully it _will_ bring the Galra here to wreck all of Slavka’s works and that awful Trur can go crawl back to the meadows she came from.

No, Allura doesn’t really think that. But maybe if Slavka just tripped down some stairs. Nothing serious, but something to hurt her a little bit. A bolt of lightning, right to her rump.

Allura breathes out her rage, and knocks firmly.

“I demand to speak with Prince Rahjim,” she announces. There are people listening. She can feel weaves of spells, not well hidden, or perhaps, they see no need to hide their weaves, but they’re keeping her connection to quintessence just out of reach. It’s an aggravating feeling that makes Allura feel less than whole, and only adds to her irritation. The weaves aren’t closed off in a loop, which means they’re being maintained by someone nearby. Ergo: mages as their guards.

“You cannot legally hold us without providing us some counsel,” Allura informs them, “I have not yet been questioned about my knowledge of Shiro, and I demand to speak to Prince Rahjim.”

There’s no reply and Allura kicks the door in frustration. She turns her back to the door, crossing her arms.

The Paladins are all watching her hopefully.

Right. She’s the leader. Without Shiro, now they must look to her for guidance.

“We’re going to be okay,” she assures them, and turns back to the door to pound it loudly with a fist, “answer me! I demand to speak with Prince Rahjim!”

In a surprise turn of events, the door opens and Rahjim ducks into the room.

“You have excellent timing,” he says pleasantly, “I was just on my way to see you.”

“Where’s Shiro?” Keith demands.

Prince Rahjim holds up two of his hands placatingly, “Please, Paladins, calm down. I’ve spoken with Slavka and Aubra, and they have agreed to release you. It’s clear that you do not know anything about Champion’s activities.”

“His name is Shiro,” Allura corrects him.

Rahjim nods shallowly, “You will be released to your ship. You are not welcome to leave it without a chaperone, nor may you take-off until midday tomorrow.”

“So we’ll just be prisoners in our own homes,” Allura says.

“Temporarily,” Rahjim agrees.

“We are not leaving without Shiro. Where is he?” Allura demands.

“In holding,” Rahjim explains, “he will be taken elsewhere tomorrow, to stand trial for his crimes.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Pidge shouts, “we’ve been trying to tell you that!”

Rahjim frowns but doesn’t argue.

“Do you think he’s guilty?” Allura asks.

“I believe he was brought in as a prisoner, like you all have said,” Rahjim says carefully, “but we saw him rise through the ranks. He has done things that I think prove he was no captive. But I will let the jury decide, in the end.”

“Like what?” Lance demands.

Rahjim reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small drive, “Here. Like I said, I believe that you know nothing. And I want to believe in Voltron, but I can only trust what I’ve seen. This is the information we collected on Champion. If you find a way to prove his innocence, his trial will be held on Atropon. You may join us there to present your case for his innocence.”

“What if he’s found guilty,” Allura asks warily.

Rahjim hesitates, and makes to leave as if he won’t answer them.

“Rahjim, please,” Allura calls him.

He pauses, and holds his chin up as he informs them, “If Champ— if Shiro— is found guilty, then he will be tried as an enemy of freedom and defender of the Galra Empire. And in accordance to Alliance law… he will be executed.”


	5. Chapter 5

Shiro tries to breathe shallowly. He doesn’t think anything is broken, but his ribs feel bruised for sure. He can’t believe he didn’t lose a tooth, with the wrench in his mouth. The metal must not be like earth metal— it’s a little soft and he thinks he might have damaged it in the fall.

They threatened to kill him when he shifted his weight off of his knees, so he could sit down and stretch his legs out. That had been a very tense five minutes.

It’s dark down here. Smells earthy. He’s pretty sure it’s some form of catacombs built under the temples, and now converted into whatever the Alliance is using them for.

Currently? A holding cell.

Shiro’s really hoping it doesn’t become a torture chamber.

There’s soft yellow lights to illuminate the immediate area around them, and lights going up the stairway they came down. Otherwise they're in pure darkness.

_They_. Him and his guards. There’s at least three soldiers with blasters drawn, and two magic-users. The Mages are wearing black cloaks with the hoods drawn and the three-star symbol of the Alliance on them, the soldiers are wearing black uniforms with the red Alliance stars pinned to their chest.

There’s a sour taste of metal in his dry mouth, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the wrench of if he’s bleeding.

Footsteps, finally. No one else lifts their eyes off of Shiro as he looks to where they’re coming from. He recognizes the soft _clip-clop_ of hooves amongst them.

The three High Generals, and Wyme, come down the stairs and walk over to them.

“You look a little rough, Champion,” Slavka observes.

Shiro thinks he may have split his cheek, but he can’t speak. So he just holds her gaze.

“Any trouble?” Slavka asks the guards.

“None, ma’am. He just, uh, tripped, coming down the stairs,” one of the soldiers replies. He was the one who’d pushed Shiro in the first place.

“Pity there aren’t more stairs,” Slavka mutters.

“He will stand trial tomorrow, alive and well,” Rahjim reminds everyone.

“We shouldn’t bother with trial,” Slavka snaps, “we’ve all seen the tapes. We all know what he’s done! Better to get it over with, than give him the chance to kill us.”

Shiro grits his teeth. He really wishes he could give her a piece of his mind.

His teeth click together as he bites through the wrench, and the gag falls away. The ends of the wrench clatter on the ground, startling everyone. Including Shiro. That is some really awful quality metal if Shiro could bite through it with just human teeth. How do they fix anything without breaking the wrench?

Wyme and her two mages all light up with magic, and the blasters are raised and ready to shoot. Even Slavka goes for her gun.

Shiro spits the piece of the wrench in his mouth onto the ground.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” he demands, “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You killed my soldiers,” Slavka snarls, “you _slaughtered_ them when they were trying to help you! And now you have the gall to pretend like you don’t remember?”

“We need information,” Aubra says, “it will likely help your testimony in court if you are helpful.”

“I don’t have any information,” Shiro insists, “if you would just tell me what you’re talking about!”

“Does Haggar know where you are?” Aubra asks.

“No,” Shiro insists, “last I saw her she tried to kill me. And almost succeeded.”

He can still feel the pain— he’s not sure if it’s phantom or not— from her deadly claws twisting in his side.

“Wyme?” Slavka checks. The Mage hesitates.

“Slavka… I… he was apprentice to the Matriarch,” Wyme says, “I dare not touch his mind until I have greater support with me.”

“Then let's _get_ support! We can’t let this opportunity escape us,” Slavka growls, and turns to one of the other Mages, “you! Fetch one of your clades.”

The Mage looks to Wyme nervously.

“Do you doubt me?” Slavka asks.

The Mage flinches, and runs without another word.

“I don’t want to see your people doubting my orders again,” Slavka informs Wyme.

“Yes ma’am,” Wyme agrees.

“Can Haggar hear us through him?” Rahjim asks, gesturing at Shiro.

“No,” Wyme shakes her head, “he is her familiar, but she is not with him. Right now.”

“Good for us,” Slavka decides, “had she realized who we are, she would have killed him by now.”

Shiro feels cold. He doesn’t… he has an _idea_ of what these words mean. And the implications of those words are so vast and terrifying that he’s not sure he even wants to think about it. But there’s so much they’re saying, that they know about him, that just doesn’t make sense.

Aubra nods stiffly, xir eyes focused on Shiro. Xir transparent skull refracts the dim light, almost making it glow, “Then I will continue. Does the Empire know where you are? Have you been feeding them information?”

“No!” Shiro says.

“Why did you go to Earth?” Aubra asks.

“I had to— to warn them,” Shiro insists. That part of his memory is still hazy. He remembers waking up with intention, but so lost in his own head that he didn’t even know his own name, “the Galra were coming. I had to save them.”

“The Galra captured you and your crew. They arrested you, and held you against your will?”

“Yes!”

“Why did they promote you to the High Council?”

“I… I don’t know what that is.”

Slavka scowls furiously, “Clearly it _isn’t_ the truth! You wore the insignia! You sat with the Emperor! Stop telling lies!”

“I thought I was going on trial,” Shiro points out, “isn’t is innocent until proven guilty?”

“Only if you are innocent,” she sneers.

“Slavka,” Rahjim says warningly. She glares up at him.

“If I may,” Wyme says cautiously. All of the High Generals turn to look at her, “like I said, he was— is— apprentice to Haggar. We know that she is the driving force behind most of the Empire’s weapons. She’s cunning and a trickster and has been after us for quite some time…”

“Spit it out,” Slavka orders.

“She may have taken his memories,” Wyme admits, “perhaps the creature before us _is_ Champion, but he does not know it. Instead, Haggar hopes to plant him in our midst and destroy us from the inside.”

“Conspiracy theories,” Aubra snorts.

“You spend your time reading Voltron legends,” Slavka berates xim.

“Can you prove it?” Rahjim asks.

“I will require the help of my other Mages,” Wyme says, “the Mages I have here on base won’t be enough. But we should be able to get our truths once we reach Atropon.”

"We're on the same side!" Shiro insists, "I don't know why you're doing this."

"You know why!" Aubra informs him, "You are the enemy."

"Like I told you, I don't remember," Shiro groans, "we're just going in circles! This isn't getting us anywhere! I've told you, I'm with Voltron. We're the good guys. We all want the same thing: to see Zarkon fall. We want to save the universe. I'm not your enemy."

"A likely story," Slavka snarls, "perhaps you can explain this to us?"

She pulls a small device from her uniform pocket. It looks circular and flat, and she tosses it to the floor at Shiro's feet. Nervously he twists and shifts so he can get up on his knees.

The device lights up.

"Slavka," Wyme says worriedly, "are you—"

"Are you questioning me?" she snaps.

Wyme pauses a moment, before saying in monotone, "Loyalty always."

The device projects a light above it, and Shiro realizes it's a screen. He's watching a movie of some sort.

It's a visor— he's looking through someone else's' eyes. The camera must be integrated into a helmet. The head swivels back and forth. They're on a galra ship, Shiro notes. And then the head drops down to show they are stripping a galra sentry of it's armor... and putting it on.

"It took us years to perfect the charms we needed for this mission," Slavka grumbles.

The feed shows the soldiers putting on the sentry armor, and then activating the charms and weaves and suddenly instead of flesh creatures wearing sentry armor, they look like sentries. Robotic and ready to take orders.

The ship has some blaster damage. They must have hijacked it, Shiro notes. He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he can't take his eyes off the video to gauge the reactions of the High Generals.

The camera stands over the back of the pilot's chair as the pilot directs the ship to the planet below. Who are they going after?

The planet is luscious in the viewscreen. It's green, green, green. Like the planet they’re on, but it looks much brighter while this planet is more temperate. The jungles spread for miles as far as the eye can see. Shiro's nearly captivated in taking in all the details. He's always delighted in seeing new planets.

The ship approaches an airstrip, a shockingly urban sightsore in the middle of the greens. There's a huge building that Shiro catches a glimpse of— more like a ring, of high, solid white walls that stretch high above the treetops. He can't imagine what it's for. It looks like some sort of enclosure, with accommodations and buildings build off of it. Distantly he wonders if it's like a Galra vacation spot. That's what humans would do, when presented with such a warm environment.

The ship comes to a stop, and with the sentry remains all safely stored from view, the imposter crew moves to open the ramp and take on their passengers.

"Stick to the plan," the camera says. It's a masculine voice.

The ramp descends, and two of the soldiers move down to stand guard, acting perfectly like sentries would.

A Galra comes prowling onto the ship. And not just any Galra, Shiro realizes when he sees the insignia on her hood: it's Haggar. She's berating them for being late and making her wait in the heat.

And she's being followed. On her heels is— Shiro's eyes widen in shock. It's him. That's him. There's no mistaking that. He's wearing black clothes with Haggar's insignia on them, carrying what looks like a cloak in his arms. He's looking around nervously, and pauses a moment as he looks right into the camera. There's the scar across his face, his hair catches the light enough that he can see the beginning of his white hair. His right arm is still flesh and bone.

Shiro doesn't remember any of this. He wants to crawl out of his skin. What's going on? Why is he with her?

In the video, Shiro pauses as he stares into the camera. He looks troubled. Shiro shakes as he stares into his own face. He wishes he knew what he was thinking.

Haggar mumbles something and Shiro rushes to her side. The camera follows, watching them closely. Shiro presses right up to Haggar's side, uncomfortably close. Familiarly close.

Shiro's stomach is churning.

The sentries all come back in with what must be packed belongings. He and Haggar must be travelling together. Why does he even _have_ belongings to pack?

She looks a lot fatter than when he'd last seen her, Shiro notes. He's not sure why that is.

In the video Shiro keeps lifting his head to look at the sentries. He's suspicious of them, Shiro realizes. Can he tell that they're under magic? That they're not really sentries?

Haggar turns her muzzle to speak to him, low notes that the camera doesn't pick up. Shiro doesn't show any fear of being near her, doesn't flinch at her long teeth in his face.

The camera moves into the cockpit with the pilot, and takes a position watching Haggar and Shiro.

Shiro feels like he's having an out of body experience. There's no way that's him. Sitting casually and comfortable in Haggar's presence. Well, not so casually. His shoulders are up, and he's tense. Shiro knows what he's like when he's anxious. He knows something is wrong here but he can't figure out what it is.

It's a bit of a relief to know he's not a fool.

He hears Slavka's voice, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s part of the recording. She must have been watching the feed live, and is communicating directly with whomever has the camera on them, "You are approaching the target zone. Act quickly. And Tsarr... be safe."

Shiro swallows. That's a fond tone. That's a very fond tone.

The camera turns, looking at the other sentries all standing in various spots around the ship. They're out of the way, completely ignorable in the fact that this is exactly what they're supposed to do. It makes them perfect assassins.

In the feed Shiro is still turning his head and looking between them. He must know something is wrong.

It all happens so fast. The signal for it must have happened out of sight of the camera, because the imposter sentries all spring into action at once. They draw their blasters and fire, catching Haggar dead on. Shiro hits the ground, thrown out of harm's way by Haggar’s shove. Haggar screams, drawing back her lips to show her long fangs, and her eyes light up briefly with magic— before it flickers away. They must have cut off her connection to magic with the blasters.

She stumbles into the side of the small ship, catching her balance, and roars at them.   
"Nothing will stop me but victory or death!" she screams.

They shoot her several more times. It isn't blaster fire like Shiro knows it— it doesn't pierce her skin. They want her alive, he realizes. This is the mission where they tried to capture her.

The one that they're claiming Shiro ruined.

His stomach flips again. He's not sure he wants to see the rest of the video, but he knows he can't look away.

The camera— Tsarr— shows quick, shaky movement now. It's hard to tell what's happening.

"Get the bones! Destroy them!" someone's shouting.

Someone's screaming in the background, "Malch? Malch!"

They're ripping Haggar's robe, pulling out some bag of... of something, and they toss it to the floor. The camera looks down, seeing bleached white bones, yellowed with age and use now, all carved with runes and symbols. One of the sentries kneels over them, whispering magical words. They must be a Mage.  The bones shine bright, unnaturally, and burst into flames.

The camera looks away, back to Haggar, and then there's the sound of screaming.

It's Shiro. That's his voice.

The camera whips around. There's a sentry trying to restrain Shiro— but not aggressively. Shiro looks white with fear.

"Is she dead? Is she dead?" Shiro shouts.

Watching the feed, Shiro sucks in a ragged breath. He's not speaking English or Japanese, though that's what the translator lets him hear. Shiro's speaking in Galran. When had he learned Galran?

"She's not dead," the sentry holding him back says gently, "but she won't hurt you. You're safe now, it's okay."

"She's not— she's not dead?" Shiro asks. He must be in shock. He goes limp in the soldier's arms with a groan. Shiro can't tell if he sounds devastated or relieved.

The soldier holding Shiro keeps talking to him, friendly, kind.

"They called you Champion? What's your real name? We're with the Alliance. If you come with us we can take you home. Do you want to go home?"

On screen, Shiro doesn't answer. He keeps staring at Haggar.

Tsarr looks away and the camera turns back to Haggar's unconscious form.

"Break her arms," comes the order from the Mage, "it'll keep her from casting if she wakes up." One soldier stretches out Haggar's long forearm, while the other raises the heavy end of their blaster for a swing.

Shiro flinches, watching, as they break Haggar's bones. The snap rings loudly, making him feel sick, even from the recording.

He hears himself shouting, and the camera looks back. Sees the sentry holding Shiro close, pressing his face into a friendly shoulder to comfort him and keep him from watching.

"Go sit him down," someone says, "poor thing is probably in shock. She's traumatized him long enough."

The camera turns back as the soldiers move to Haggar's other side, preparing to break that arm too.

There's a shout— not Shiro's— and the camera whips around again. The soldier consoling Shiro is flailing. Shiro's still pressed close, holding tight to him. His face at the soldier's throat.

There's an arc of blood from where Shiro's teeth are lodged in his skin.

Shiro's going to be sick.

No wonder they wanted to muzzle him.

"No," he whispers, "no that— no."

"Do you remember this now?" Slavka hisses.

The soldiers start shouting, scrambling for their weapons. Shiro watches himself shove the soldier away, tearing out his throat. He throws out a hand and his eyes light up with Druid magic. The guns scatter out of reach.

There's a blast of power from the Mage, enough to knock Shiro off of his feet. He's up and scrambling, lips drawn back in a snarl. His face is covered in blood.

"He's a Druid!" the soldiers are calling, "stun him! Stun him!"

The Mage steps into the camera's field of vision, hand out and drawing on more power to disarm him. Shiro's outnumbered at least six to one. He lunges to grab hold of the frame of the ship, anchoring himself, as he sweeps an arm in a wide arc.

At first Shiro doesn't realize what he's done, watching, but then the whole ship flips and the soldiers are thrown off of their feet. He'd used magic to control the ship, banking so sharply that he was the only one prepared.

Tsarr manages to right himself, getting to his feet, as the camera stabilizes as he watches Shiro leap onto a soldier who didn't get up in time. Shiro punches him in the throat, and as the soldier flinches he goes for the kill. Another soldier rushes him, knocking Shiro off of his comrade, and they grapple across the floor.

Tsarr moves forwards, running across the way, to check on the injured soldier. He's still alive. Watching, seeing the sight of the soldier's face, Shiro isn't sure that's a good thing. He gags, loudly.

The camera turns. There's two soldiers on Shiro. One has a blaster, the other is grappling hand-to-hand with him. They can't get a clear shot. Shiro watches himself duck, springing forwards and tackling the blaster, snatching it. He rolls as he hits the ground and fires twice, taking both soldiers down. They're stunned, like Haggar. They won't be getting up anytime soon.

The ship jolts again, throwing everyone around.

The camera just sees a soldier hit the upturned bench as they land, and their spine bends around the hard edge. They don't get up.

Shiro doesn't want to watch this. He sees himself get his hands on another soldier. Gets his teeth on him.

The Mage and Tsarr are trying to retreat to the cockpit. They can seal themselves off, protect themselves and get back to reinforcements. The camera takes one last look as the doors close, sees Shiro crouched over one of the stunned soldiers, and the quick shove as he breaks their arm.

The doors close as the soldier screams.

Tsarr is talking quickly, the camera picks it up only due to the proximity of his mouth.

"Command? Command? We're in trouble. Champion is not a prisoner like we thought— he's hostile. He's taken out most of the force. We need you to meet us, I don't know how much longer we can hold him off. He's Druid trained, I repeat, he has magic. Please be ready."

There's knocking at the door.

The Mage is at the controls, piloting the ship. The camera looks down. Tsarr has a blaster. Shiro watches his hands change the settings from stun to kill.

He sees the muzzle of the blaster as the camera stands up, in the bottom of the view. It's pointed at the door.

"We have to get Haggar to the rendezvous," the camera says, steady, "fly it no matter what."

"Rebel pigs, let me in," Shiro— Champion— calls through the doors.

They don't respond. The blaster is kept at the ready, safety off.

"He's going for the controls," the Mage hisses. Shiro can see the Mage grappling physically to keep control of the steering. Champion must be using magic again to interfere.

"Stop him," Tsarr orders. The Mage’s eyes light up with magic for a few moments, and then fade back to normal.

"He stopped," the Mage says cautiously, "I overpowered him."

"So what's he doing now?" Tsarr asks.

There's a moment of silence. Shiro holds his breath. He can't believe this is him. This is an out of body experience: watching himself do these awful, horrible things.

At once, Shiro hears all of the living soldiers behind the doors start screaming. It's not terrified screaming, not like Shiro's heard. It's shrill, it's animal and raw. It's the sound of pain. He’s doing something to those soldiers. He’s making them sound like they’re dying.

The screams cut out, and then three short knocks.

There's a beat of silence.

And then the screaming resumes. Shiro didn't realize pain could get worse. The screams intensify. he doesn't know what's happening to the soldiers but he's never heard anything alive sound like that. He gags, listening to it. He's going to be sick.

His guards shift uncomfortably. Even Rahjim and Aubra look away in disgust. Only Slavka stands stoic, watching him with narrowed eyes.

The screaming goes on and on.

"What's he doing?" Tsarr demands from the projection. He's scared.

Shiro's only watching, and he's terrified.

"I don't know," the Mage whimpers.

And then, silence.

It stretches on.

There's no knock.

"Shit," Tsarr growls. He doesn't sound as angry as he is trying to cover his fear, "where is he?"

The silence continues.

"He may have overtaxed himself," the Mage offers.

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Tsarr asks.

Shiro doesn't understand what's happening either.

" _Alpha team, we are moving into range. Stay strong_ ," comes a call over the radio.

"Thank the gods," the Mage sighs in relief.

"We're not there yet," Tsarr reminds them, "Stay on course."

Shiro doesn't understand what Champion’s doing— where is he? He knows himself. He wouldn't have given up. But he's... he's clearly not himself. He probably isn't thinking straight. He can't be. To have... to be doing what he did. He must be acting on instinct. Haggar was messing with his head— even the rebels had said so. Shiro's clearly not in his right mind in the video. He's like an animal.

Without warning the screaming begins, startling everyone, including Shiro.

The doors to the cockpit open.

"What are you doing?" Tsarr shouts.

"I didn't— oh my god he overrode the system!" the Mage realizes.

Shiro sees it in an instant. The screaming was to cover the sound of him opening up the panels on the wall, of messing with the wires. But Shiro has a lot of experience overriding the Garrison garage doors when he wanted to sneak out on something with some horsepower. It’s not something one would expect a crazy person to do. That’s not the action of someone out of their mind.

It's a calculated move.

The camera lunges forwards with a snarl, blaster up, as the Mage follows. They can't let themselves get cornered.

Shiro sees himself leap down from above, a flash of movement the camera can't quite capture. He fights just like he does now. He uses his environment to his advantage, he's faster than his enemies would ever expect. He bends and twists in ways they can't comprehend.

He strikes the Mage with the blaster, stunning them and knocking them to the ground. He disarms the camera, and knocks him to the ground. They're looking up at Shiro as he leans over them, his face fills the entire feed.

"You made a mistake," Champion growls.

There's blood dripping off of his chin, and it falls towards the camera.

"The Empire will fall," Tsarr says defiantly, "it's too late for you. We've captured Haggar."

There's a shudder as the whole ship shakes, and in the background of the feed Shiro can see the hazy light of a tractor beam. The Alliance ship got to them.

Shiro watches himself look up, snarling at the oncoming ship. He turns back to the camera, and then a wicked sneer spreads across his face.

"I am the future of the Empire," Shiro informs the camera, "let me show you what I've learned."

Shiro sees his eyes light up, and then the camera moves suddenly as Tsarr’s head is thrown back and he starts screaming.

The feed cuts out.

"What... what was that?" Shiro asks. He's shaking.

"You, clearly," Slavka replies.

"And they... all of them?" Shiro asks.

Slavka steps forwards to pick up her projector.

"They didn't die then," and she pauses a moment. Shiro remembers the way she'd talked to Tsarr. He's making a guess. But they must have been very close, "we kept track of them, trying to retrieve them, as long as we could but you took them too far into Galra territory. By our estimates, they were alive for hours, in that agony."

"No," Rahjim says grimly, "some of their hearts gave out from stress. Before the end."

Shiro slumps forwards. He's dizzy. That was him. That was his face, his voice. That was his fighting style. But how was that him? What _happened_ to him that he can't remember?

“You may continue to claim you have no knowledge of anything,” Slavka says, “but I do not think that will hold up well against the evidence we have to prove your guilt.”

“I’m a Paladin,” Shiro pleads, “I— I don’t want to hurt people.”

“Paladins are replaceable,” Slavka says. Aubra shoots her a surprised look.

“We will wormhole first thing in the morning,” Slavka says, and addresses the guards, “keep him secure. We’ll send your relief in a few hours. If he gives you any trouble, kill him.”

She, Rahjim and Aubra, trailed by Wyme, all turn to leave.

“Wait,” Shiro calls, “what about the others? My friends? Where are they?”

Rahjim is the only one who pauses to talk to him.

“Safe,” Rahjim assures him, “on lockdown, but they will be free to go tomorrow. They are convinced of your innocence and are hoping to prove it.”

Of course they are, Shiro thinks. He can’t help but smile. It’s weak.

“They know me,” he insists, “I’m not that— whoever that was, in the video. I don’t know who that is. It’s my face, but it’s not me.”

“We will see what the court has to say about it,” Rahjim says carefully, and turns to follow the other High Generals, “Goodnight, Shiro.”


	6. Chapter 6

It’s a long night. Once they’d arrived back to the Castle, and gone over the day's events with a worried Coran, the whole team had sprung into action.

It feels like completely disorganized mayhem, but it’s action of some sort. Keith goes and spars with the gladiator for a solid hour until he stops wanting to go out guns blazing. Hunk and Coran go to the kitchen to make dinner. Lance storms off quietly, wanting to be alone for a little bit in what clearly shows he’s a lot more upset than he wants everyone else to believe.

Allura and Pidge set about starting to sift through the information Prince Rahjim has given them, to make it easier to split up amongst everyone.

That’s clearly the plan, in the end, that they all come together and start picking apart every single file.

Overall there iasn’t much. The logs of when Shiro had been brought into the prisons— Pidge scours desperately for any hint of their family— and initial medical reports, which all went to making a catalogue of Shiro’s anatomy. Hunk starts reading those and quietly hands them to Lance to continue. There are records of his battles in the Arena. He’s been in so many. Keith grits his teeth when he thinks about all the times Shiro had been forced to fight to the death.

There are sparse medical reports— of when Shiro had needed medical care. They all come from a source named Ulaz. Who is likely a spy for the Alliance. What had they called the good Galra? The Blade of Marmora? Well, Ulaz is probably one of them. Weird that he’d been so close to Shiro, and hadn’t done anything to save him.

And then there are the videos.

Lots of clips of Shiro’s arena fights. Most of them highlights taped from evening reels. Some of them are shots of Shiro, from far away, as he is seated in balcony seats alongside Haggar and Sendak, with Zarkon’s throne the only seat higher than theirs. They are all watching a fight, cheering and laughing like it’s a sporting event.

The Alliance has a list of all of Shiro’s aliases and titles: Haggar’s Right Hand, Haggar’s Familiar, Eyethief, Champion, Haggar’s Mad Dog. It becomes increasingly clear that Haggar was closely involved in Shiro’s captivity. Which only begs the question: what did she want with him?

There’s propaganda. That’s… that’s the easiest thing to call it.

Some of the clips are the final version, that must have aired across the Galra Empire. Shiro talks to the camera, in Galran, and encourages everyone to sign up for the army, to love and adore the Emperor— long may he reign— or to report any suspicious Rebel activity.

Some of the videos are grainy, shot from some sort of hidden camera, of Shiro between takes for these propaganda videos. He’s quietly standing with his head bowed, drifting into Haggar’s personal space as she guards him like a jealous child protects their favorite toy. She’s always with him. In every video. It’s unsettling, like they can’t be apart.

Then there is the… there is the video. Of the Alliance soldiers almost catching Haggar.

They’re all too stunned to turn it off. Coran starts to say they should, but can’t bring himself to move to do it.

They watch Shiro kill those soldiers. He’s absolutely terrifying.

It’s a long night for everyone. They think of Shiro, locked up somewhere on base. They wonder where he is, how he doesn’t know what they now know about him. They miss him, and they’re terrified for him.

No one sleeps.

 

* * *

 

It’s barely dawn when Allura, flanked by the Paladins and Coran, leaves the Castle.

There are guards stationed outside the Castle, of course. Dressed in armor bearing the three-star symbol of the Alliance. They raise their blasters and protest that no one is allowed to leave the Castle without an escort.

“Then escort us,” Allura snaps, “I must speak with the High Generals.”

There are early morning patrols taking off, engines roaring and disturbing the quiet morning. Allura doesn’t pay the ships any mind. There’s nothing special to them. Probably out to make sure there are no more Galra in the area or to collect scraps from the battle yesterday.

They wait in a small room just off the War Room. It’s practically an office, probably for some secretary or officer who must do lots of paperwork. Keith paces, Pidge sits close to Allura, clutching their laptop close. Hunk and Lance stand together, leaning against the wall with their shoulders touching. Coran sits down, and stares at the door and doesn’t move.

Finally, finally the door opens. But it isn’t any of the high generals, it’s Wyme.

“Where’s Slavka?” Allura asks, “or Prince Rahjim? I need to talk to them.”

“Prince Rahjim and Aubra departed late last night,” Wyme replies calmly, “we felt it was unwise to have all three High Generals potentially compromised by Champion’s presence.”

“Where’s Shiro?” Keith demands.

“In custody,” Wyme reminds him, “and he will be taken to Atropon later today. As we already told you.”

“We have proof of his innocence,” Pidge blurts out, “he’s not guilty.”

Wyme looks surprised.

Allura nods to Pidge to continue.

Pidge opens their laptop, turning it to face Wyme, “See? Shiro’s with Haggar all the time, yeah, but look.”

Pidge has cut and spliced several instances of Shiro and Haggar together. Something will catch Haggar’s attention, her ears will flicker or her nose twitch, and she’ll turn to look at something. The eerie thing is that, Shiro will turn at the exact same time, as if they rehearsed it.

And it isn’t just a few instances of this. It happens in nearly every clip they have of Shiro and Haggar together.

The final piece of evidence is a brief clip. Shiro’s filming a propaganda piece on how any Rebel sympathizer should be put to death. The camera is to the side, so it’s capturing Shiro facing the studio camera, and it also shows Haggar off to the side. She’s mouthing the words as Shiro speaks them.

“You see?” Allura says, “she’s in his head. She’s controlling his actions, influencing and compelling him to do all of these things. It would be like childs play for a Druid of her power.”

Wyme nods slowly, “Yes… I suppose it’s possible.”

“We need to tell Slavka, like, right now,” Pidge insists, “this doesn’t even need to go to trial.”

“Of course,” Wyme says neutrally, “I will inform her.”

There’s something hanging on the edge of her sentence, that gives Allura pause.

“When will you inform her?” she asks cautiously, “now? Today? Why isn’t Slavka here when I demanded to see her?”

Wyme bites her tongue a moment, before coming up with an answer, but it’s too late.

“She’s taken him already,” Allura realizes, “in those fighters earlier. She didn’t want us to know. Have they left the system?”

“What?” Lance and Hunk echo in shock.

Wyme grimaces, and then hardens her expression, “If you attempt to interfere in any way you will be in direct violation of the transport of a dangerous criminal. I will have no choice but to arrest you.”

“Where are they?” Allura demands.

Wyme sighs, “They should be leaving the atmosphere any—”

She’s interrupted by sirens.

“Shiro!” Keith shouts, and runs past them.

The base has roared to life again, the sirens spurring them on. Team Voltron rushes out of the hangar, eyes on the sky.

The sky is overcast, but there are Empire Fighters moving towards the base. Allura can see the dark black specks of them against the light dawn sky. There’s streaks of light where there’s an Alliance fleet already engaging them.

Not just any fleet, she realizes, that’s the fleet that’s transporting Shiro.

“To your Lions!” Allura orders, “we need to provide backup!”

The Paladins are shaken from their stupor and start running without hesitation. Shiro's in danger, and they need to help him.

"Wait!" Wyme shouts, "you're grounded! You cannot fly!"

"Then try and stop us!" Coran taunts.

Allura stands still for a moment, eyeing Wyme up. If it should come to a fight, the Mage will be a dangerous enemy.

Wyme scowls, and turns back to the hangar and weaves a spell to amplify the sound of her voice, “It’s a scouting party! Don’t let them close to the ground! Take those fighters out!”

Allura doesn’t relax, but she releases her hold on her quintessence. She turns on her heel and sprints after her Paladins. The Castle is on the far end of the base, and they don’t have time to waste.

 

* * *

 

Kidjen flags down Pidge before they get out of the hangar, "Hey! Hey! Where are you going?"

"I gotta fight the Galra," Pidge says quickly, "Shiro's up there!"

“Pidge, c’mon!” Lance shouts over his shoulder.

Kidjen grimaces, and Pidge realizes that their friend must have heard about the accusations against Shiro.

"He's good," Pidge insists quickly, and looks for the others. They're long gone now, "we can prove it. But we have to save him!"

"We can't fight," Kidjen says, and then Terrified-Sue is hustling in behind them.

"LOST-PIDGE MUST COME!" Concerned-Sue says.

Pidge shakes their head, "No, I have to go. I'll see you again!"

They take off running. Their guts are twisting with worry. Shiro will be okay. Shiro has to be okay. They'll save him and they'll make everything right.

Pidge can't erase the image of Shiro's face from the video, right before he started torturing the soldier. They're never going to forget those screams.

 

* * *

 

Allura feels the change in the air around them, like someone is holding their breath.

It confuses her a moment, before she tastes the electric tang on her breath.

"Ion cannon!" she screams.

A hole punches through the clouds as the intense purple energy of the beam jets downwards, and strikes one of the eastern temples. The ground seems to shake with the _crack_ of the cannon blast. The Paladins hit the ground, Allura is only just able to keep her footing.

It’s not just a patrol of fghters. There's an entire fleet of Galra cruisers above them.

Oh no, Allura realizes, reinforcements. The Alliance Base has been discovered, and they've sent a fleet to destroy it. This is an invasion.

Coran pulls Lance to his feet. Keith is already up and running to the Castle as the far end of the Base. Allura checks that Hunk is okay, and then they're off.

It feels like it takes forever to reach the Castle. No matter how fast they run isn't fast enough. They base is hit twice more with ion blasts. The temples are falling, crumbling with flaming mortar and charred rocks tumbling down to crush the living quarters built into their bases.

The Paladins rush for their Lions. Allura runs for the bridge with Coran hot on her heels. The Castle lights up around her, syncing with her quintessence. It is alive unlike anything else today, one of the last of true Altean technology. Woven through with magic and skill, the Castle is eager to heed her orders.

Pidge makes it onto the Castle as the others are preparing for liftoff.

"Where were you?" Lance shouts over the comms.

"Sorry, I got held up," Pidge grumbles.

"This isn't the time! Shiro's in danger, we have to get to him!" Keith orders.

The Red Lion launches far ahead of the rest of them, streaking up into the sky for battle.

 

* * *

Allura opens the viewports. The Base is on fire. Another Ion Blast rips through the site. All of the ships are being launched. There's new sirens— these Allura knows. The call to evacuate.

"Allura, we're being hailed," Coran says, "it's the Alliance."

Allura continues getting the Castle ready for flight, "Ignore them. They're only going to try and stop us."

She's closed all the hatches and is preparing to launch the engines, and does a final sweep for any signs of life around them. The Blue and Yellow Lions launch.

There's several life forms, all running for them.

"We're being hailed again," Coran says.

Allura grits her teeth, "They're in our blast range!"

An ion cannon rips through the main hangar, and the entire temple goes up in flames, showering the area in bricks and rock as the smoke rises high into the sky.

"Answer them!" Allura grunts. She wants to answer mostly to tell them to piss off before she fries them. It's not a very Altean thought, so she refrains from sharing it.

Wyme is calling them, from inside the smokey, damaged archive room. The place looks like it’s ready to fall apart at any moment. "Allura! I don't have time to argue, but I need your help."

"My help?" Allura gasps.

The Castle rocks as the Green Lion takes off.

"They wormholed close enough that our sensors didn't pick them up in time," Wyme says, "and they've destroyed most of our fleet. I'm evacuating to a local system, I will give you the coordinates, but I don't have enough ships to transport all of my people. You have the largest ship here, how many can you take?"

"Tell them to hide," Allura says, and then falters. She was going to say that she has to save her own.

Wyme turns to soldiers behind her, who are smashing up the archives with their blasters, “Hurry! Destroy it all!”

"Allura, the codes," Coran insists.

"I know," Allura says, steadying herself. As Alteans they cannot turn away from those in need. The Paladins are holding the Galra off, and they will save Shiro. The sensors on her screen show that the Black Lion is the only one to not have launched.

"Of course," Allura grits out, "I will take as many as you need. I have a shield I will hold as long as I can, but I need to launch as soon as possible."

"I'm sending them to you now," Wyme insists, and pauses, "thank you."

There’s another blast, Wyme braces as the archive room shakes, and Allura sees smoke fill the room before the connection cuts out.

 

* * *

 

Lance pushes Blue as hard as he can. They ascend so quickly that he's pressed to the back of his chair and he feels like he's made of lead. Keith is already there, shooting down Empire fighters and trying to cover the remaining Alliance ships.

Lance really hopes one of those still has Shiro.

He easily pulls ahead of Hunk, in the clunky Yellow.

"Alright girl," Lance whispers, "it's time to kick some ass."

He swears he can feel her delight in the back of his head.

"Which one has Shiro?" Hunk asks over the comms.

"Someone radio them!" Keith grunts out, "I don't know what frequency they're on!"

"On it!" Hunk agrees.

Blue opens her mouth and fires a deadly blast that manages to clip the wing of an Empire fighter, and the ship begins dovetailing downwards.

The Green Lion hurdles in, smacking a fighter aside with a large paw.

"Lance! Let's get that Ion Cannon!" Pidge calls.

"Yeah!" he agrees.

The Battle Cruisers are getting closer and closer. Their shots with the ion canons are only getting more accurate, and most of the Alliance Base is already destroyed. The walls holding back the jungle have been blown to bits, the temples that have stood for centuries are crumbling.

"Okay! Okay!" Hunk shouts, "got it! I'm patching you all through!"

Instantly Lance's comms are filled with the pilots all shouting and trying to form some kind of strategy. The biggest thing he hears is 'hold them off until—'

"Paladins," Allura calls to them, interrupting the chaotic chatter, "there's been a change in plans. We are taking in all the refugees we can, and we will be evacuating to a nearby system. I will be creating a wormhole shortly, hold off the fleet until then.”

"What about Shiro?" Lance asks.

"Slavka will be forced to join us," Allura says, "her ship won't make it past a fleet like this."

"Yeah, we're dropping everyone off at whatever Base they've got, we take Shiro, and we're gone," Keith decides.

"Sounds like a plan," Lance agrees, "we got ya covered, Princess!"

Lance peels off to terrorize some of the fighters that have gotten behind the Alliance ships and were heading for the ground. Hunk races past him, full speed ahead for the Ion Cannon on the nearest Cruiser. It's going to be a difficult battle, without Shiro.

Keith rolls smoothly out of the way of a blaster beam, righting himself just in time to fire and catch the fighter dead on. It falls apart as it drops, burning metals plummeting to earth.

There's a loud cheer from Hunk and Pidge as, together, they manage to knock the Ion Cannon out of commission. Small victories. Hold off the invasion, just long enough to get to safety.

Keith strikes down an Empire fighter that was targeting an Alliance fighter, only for the Alliance ship to be taken unawares by a new fighter. Keith grits his teeth. They're so outnumbered here. If only they could form Voltron.

Just a few more minutes. Until Allura gives the signal.

And that's when he spots it— it's only slightly bigger than a fighter, but it clearly has a cargo hold. It's meant for transporting large groups of people, while still being agile.

That's the ship that Shiro's on. He knows it.

Keith urges Red onwards. He has to protect that ship. At all costs.

"Paladins! Get out of the atmosphere!" Allura orders, "I have to make a direct ascent and wormhole quickly before the Fleet can follow us."

"Roger," they all reply.

Keith watches the transport ship also retreat from the fight, and tip it's nose up as it heads for open space.

It's a rough ascent, with the fighters on their tails. The Cruisers can't turn fast enough, and they continue down to the base below. Keith spares a thought, and hopes that everyone made it out. Part of him wants to run back— he could take a few more if someone was missed— but he has to stay with Shiro.

That's what's most important.

'Wormholing in thirty ticks!" Coran calls.

"Paladins where are you?" Allura sounds frustrated.

"Almost there!" Keith shouts.

Movement, on this left. Red reacts just as Keith does, like they're of one mind, and they avoid the fighter coming in for one more hit.

The transport ship isn't as lucky. It's wing is blown off, and Keith is frozen in horror as he watches it fall.

“NO!”

"Keith!" Allura shouts over the comms.

"Shiro! He's down!" Keith barely realizes he's the one yelling.

"We have to evacuate and return for him," Allura says, "if you stay here you'll be captured!"

Keith makes to turn Red around. He's going back. "But—"

The Yellow Lion isn't as large as the Black, but it's still more than capable of grabbing the smaller Red Lion and dragging it to safety.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hunk tells him.

Keith snarls and shouts, unsure and not caring if his comms are even open or not, as he's pulled away.

He loses sight of the burning ship quickly, and then the wormhole fills his view screen.

They leave Shiro behind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to part 2! Thank you all for reading this far, and I'm sure you're all very excited to see what becomes of Shiro, the Pals, and the Alliance!
> 
> Major thanks, again, to the incredible Gitwrecked for all of her beautiful art, which can be found by [clicking here](https://gitwrecked.tumblr.com/post/163655124070/lay-to-waste-by-demenior-for-the)

Allura lands the Castle with as much finesse as she possibly can. It's heavier than it normally is, with all of the people on board. They've moved to a base on a planet that is frozen with ice and snow. The Castle cannot fit inside the hangar, and will have to be covered by holograms to keep it from being seen from above.

Not that she plans to be here very long.

Keith hasn't turned his comms back on since Hunk dragged him through the wormhole.

"Princess?" Coran turns to face her.

"We left Shiro behind," Allura says worriedly.

"We did the right thing. We had to save everyone with us," Coran assures her, "Shiro is strong. He can take care of himself."

They avoid pointing out the obvious. Shiro's ship was shot down at a very high height— there's a strong possibility that Shiro did not survive the crash.

The doors to the Bridge open and Wyme strides in with a crew of soldiers.

"Princess," she says, "I want to start by thanking you. You saved so many of my people."

"But you want to put me under arrest again?" Allura guesses.

"I must adhere to Slavka's orders," Wyme admits, "but I wish to invite you to stand with me on our council. We must discuss what should be done yet, and I think you should be there."

"I need to go back and get Shiro," Allura tells her, "I don't have time for talks."

"Slavka is with him. We are planning our rescue party," Wyme says, "I think it will be beneficial if we were to work together, than to continue as enemies."

Allura hesitates. This woman had attacked her to keep her from protecting Shiro just last night.

"Don't ever raise your magic at me again," Allura warns her, "I will forgive you this first time. But never again."

It's Altean to forgive past transgressions, to move towards a peaceful future. It's Galran to remember them. Allura does her best to honor her lineage, but she takes after all of her parents.

 

* * *

 

The Paladins insist on joining her for the meeting. Wyme may be upset, but Allura allows it. She wants her team with her. Shiro is in danger, and they are all going to go to save him. Let the Alliance try and stop them.

They stand at a circular table, many leaders and aliens gathered around. The Paladins are at her back.

On the far side two projections light up. It's Rahjim and Aubra, separately.

"I am reporting in for Slavka," Wyme announces, "as of this morning, the High General was shot down while escorting the prisoner known as Champion to Atropon for trial. The base on Kor was lost to a Galran invasion."

"What?" Rahjim's projection gasps.

"A Galra Fleet surprised us this morning," Wyme continues, "we were taken off guard, and due to overwhelming force we lost the base. We would have lost much more, but Princess Allura and the Paladins of Voltron offered their ships as protection and to transport most of our soldiers."

"A big loss," Aubra groans, "our fleet is decimated."

"But your pilots are alive," Allura points out, "your ships were outdated and old. This will be an opportunity to make the Alliance stronger."

"Why is she here? This is a meeting for Alliance members only," Aubra points out, looking at Allura.

"Without her we would be dead," Wyme insists, “I invited her to stand with me.”

"And we invited Voltron in with the intent to make an alliance," Rahjim adds, "I believe the Princess has every right to join us."

"At this rate we will have Kolivan sitting in our meetings," Aubra grumbles.

"Were you followed?" Rahjim asks, changing topics.

Wyme glances at Allura, "I do not believe so. The Princess was able to create a wormhole for us to escape, we were untraceable to the Empire."

"Good," Rahjim agrees, "now, is there any word of Slavka?"

Wyme shakes her head, "We have been unable to establish any contact. We know that Druan was flying the ship, and with someone as experienced as him we can only hope that he was able to land them safely."

"Are we planning to rescue her?" Aubra asks.

"That is what the meeting is for," Wyme admits, "the Galra will be ransacking our information left behind on the base. I destroyed all that I could, but if we were to return to ambush them, we may be able to stop them releasing anything they can find."

"And rescue our people," Allura adds.

"Yes," Wyme agrees.

"You said it was a Galra fleet?" Rahjim asks.

"And we're down many of our ships," Aubra adds nervously, "to attack them could cause more losses than gains."

"If we don't, then the Galra walk over you," Allura says, "I thought you wanted to make them afraid?"

"There's a difference between being afraid and being smart," Wyme tells Allura, "we have to be smart."

"Smart is knowing that you have the greatest weapon in the history of the Universe with you," Allura says.

"Unfortunately, you do not have your Black Paladin," Aubra points out.

"But we have me," Allura says, "I have a strong enough connection with all of the Lions that I can bond with them. I can temporarily replace Shiro, until he's rescued. We will have Voltron."

The Paladins gasp and Allura keeps her face neutral. She makes sure not to look at them, as they will demand answers. She wants them to appear like they are confident in her words.

"If we have Voltron... this could be a serious assault," Wyme says.

"We must make sure we aren't rushing in for revenge," Rahjim points out, "we must be cautious. You only just escaped with your lives. Is it smart to run back in?"

"I will need some time to recover my strength to wormhole us," Allura says, "but you will have Voltron and the Castle of Lions leading the attack. We are going with or without you, and we have already survived an attack on Zarkon's Royal Fleet. If there is a time to be brave, High General, it is now. Stand proud with Voltron!"

Lance cheers excitedly behind her, and Allura is seized with fondness for her human Paladins. Truly they are the bravest of the brave.

"I agree with the Princess," Wyme admits, "and it's what Slavka would want. To see the Galra fall before us."

"I think it's too big a risk. You are going in as a rescue operation, and to take on an entire Galra Fleet? With half the ships we would normally have? My vote is against it," Aubra says, "we can't risk another loss so soon."

Everyone turns to Rahjim. It's his word.

"Voltron has only returned to the Universe for a short amount of time, and in that period they have done nearly as much as the Alliance has, if not more, in fighting off the Empire’s oppression. I think we would be foolish to not demonstrate to the Galra that we are a united force. Go, plan your rescue. And make them regret attacking us," Rahjim says.

A triumphant cheer rings out in the room.

"One last thing," Allura adds, "when we find Slavka and Shiro, you _will_ pardon Shiro. He will be returning with us, and you will never threaten to arrest him again."

Aubra scowls, his floating eyes narrowed and angry in his translucent skull.

"Slavka will not agree to that," Wyme says.

"Slavka will die on that planet without my help," Allura explains, "and she's not here right now. You are speaking in her place. So say yes."

"Wyme," Rahjim cuts in, "I will speak for the High Generals. In exchange for Voltron's help in protecting our security, and defending our base: should the Black Paladin known as Shiro survive, we will consider him pardoned of his crimes against freedom."

Allura nods shortly as Aubra gasps and turns to yell at Rahjim.

"Thank you," she says.

Wyme cuts the call after that, letting the projections of Rahjim and Aubra vanish.

"Very well, Princess, we will wait for your signal," Wyme says.

"Take Coran with you. He's an excellent strategist. I will retire to the Castle for a short while, and then return when I am rested, We have lots of preparation to do before we can depart," Allura says.

She hesitates, realizing she's just given an order. It just comes naturally to her. Wyme makes eye contact, having recognized the same. Wyme is an acting High General, she is technically Allura's superior.

"Yes, Princess," Wyme submits, "we will wait on your order."

 

* * *

 

"Can you actually bond with the Lions?" Pidge asks.

"That's so cool!" Lance says.

They've just arrived back on the Castle, having made the short, freezing run from the base to home. They're all shaking snow off of their armor.

"What about resting?" Keith adds, "I've seen you make more than one wormhole in a day. Are you sure you're okay?"

Allura grimaces, "I may have fibbed a little."

"What?" Hunk shouts.

"I do have a strong connection to all of the Lions, as I told you when we first met," she says, "I just... may have _assumed_ it means I can pilot one."

"You don't know if you can?" Keith repeats, "even though you piloting the Black Lion is the only reason we're going to save Shiro!"

"I'm sure the Black Lion will understand!" Allura says, "I will go speak with her."

"Is the connection to the Lions a magic thing, or an Altean thing?" Pidge asks, "cause Coran doesn't mention any of this stuff."

"It's neither," Allura says, “it is just… a me thing. But I must go speak with her— please rest and get yourselves ready for battle. I promise you that I will do my absolute best to bring Shiro home to us."

They all salute her.

"Aye-aye, sir!" Lance shouts.

Allura tries to absorb their confidence in her abilities. She wishes she felt the same.


	8. Chapter 8

Fire wakes Shiro up. He’s swaying, like he’s being suspended by ropes.

He's hot— he's burning! His face!

Shiro jerks back, his arms are still pinned behind his back, but he's shaking his head free of the smoldering sack. His weight shifts in the chains and he drops, stomach lurching, and shouts.

He hits the ground. Hard.

The sack falls off on impact. It's corners are curling with fire. Shiro's skin feels raw and hot, and he may have singed his hair. There are chains are swaying above him, clicking from where they hang from a branch. They’re what Slavka and her guards had used to bolt Shiro to the floor of the cargo ship before takeoff. Shiro has the sneaking suspicion they must have caught and broke his fall— with how beaten and bruised his body feels.

His arms are still trapped behind his back. Those chains didn't break. He has a good feeling the chain to his ankles survived the fall as well then. So, movement is very limited.

He can hear fire crackling, can smell the smoke of the impact, but so far there's no sign of any other life. Is he the only one who survived?

Shiro pushes himself to his knees. He's dizzy, and he's pretty sure he's bleeding but there's not much he can do about it. His chestplate is cracked, and his flight suit is ripped up.

He's in a jungle. It must be the one that surrounded the base. From here Shiro doesn't know how far it is to get back to the base.

He’d been half-dozing in the darkness of the catacombs when Slavka had arrived with a fresh team of soldiers. They hadn’t wasted any time and forced him up the stairs. He’d been able to catch a glimpse of the sky, realize it was early morning, and spy the Castle of Lions sitting at the edge of the base. When he tried to call for help, as they forced him into the cargo ship, they put a sack over his head. The last things he remembers was everyone yelling about Galra, and rolling with the motions as the pilot evaded and engaged with enemy fighters. Shiro wishes he'd been able to see any of it.

He doesn’t even know if his team is aware he’s not on the base anymore.

He needs to find high ground. Once he knows where he is, then he can make a decision about what to do next.

His chains get in the way as he walks, and the uneven terrain only makes it worse. Shiro starts picking his way through the underbrush when he hears the sound of someone in pain. It's coming from his right, and he takes off at a sprint. He trips himself several times on the way.

He breaks into a clearing— made by the crash of the cargo ship. Shiro sees the remains of at least one soldier. The entire area is burning, thick smoke curling up into the air, and there’s metal and debris scattered everywhere.

There's one of the Alliance soldiers, pinned by debris. And there's fire burning way, way, way too close to him. He's trapped and can't get away.

Shiro wishes his armor was functional. It would be able to help him repel the heat.

He runs in, ducking his head to his shoulder to try and stay safe from the flames. It’s already so hot his skin feels singed. He can barely hear himself think in the roar of the flames.

"Here, I can lift," he shouts.

The soldier sees him and starts clawin at the dirt to get away.

The fire catches on something— fuel, most likely, and explodes into life. It's so hot. Shiro's already burning.

"I'm here to help!" Shiro shouts, and he crouches down so he can get his hand on the metal pinning the soldier. His prosthetic isn’t working, still. He doesn’t know if it’s because of Slavka or if it’s actually broken. It's hard to keep his grip, when it's behind his back, but he plants his feet and lifts from his knees. Inch by inch he feels it lifting.

The soldier drags himself free.

"Can you walk?" Shiro asks, and the soldier is already up and running with no glance back at him.

Shiro drops the metal and follows as fast as his ankle restraints will let him.

Shiro rounds a tree after him, "Wait! Can you get this off—"

He runs into the soldier, who is standing stock still, shaking in terror.

Shiro's stomach drops as he lifts his gaze.

There, just across a small break in the trees, is a real, in the flesh dinosaur. With very big teeth.

And it's staring right at them.

 

* * *

 

"Loyalty to truth," the rebel scum screams as the Druid questions her, "loyalty to justice! Loyalty to freedom!"

It's the Rebel mantra. Loyalty this, loyalty that. They all yell it like it matters. In the end their words mean nothing, just like their existence.

There's not much left of their base, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything to find.

Commander Fovzak takes in the destruction as he walks the remains of the Rebel base.

An overgrown, disgustingly humid hive of terrorism. Just where one would expect the fools who question the Empire to congregate.

The air is so thick that it's making his fur damp. He could almost be in a bad mood about it.

Except.

 _Except_.

This is a great victory for the Empire. His fleet had stumbled across a supply ship whose systems had failed due to wormholing under duress and leaving the crew dead. It had been found with markings associated with Rebel fighters.

From there it was simple matter to retrace its last known coordinates from its flight log, and to realize that the ship must have launched close to where it was attacked. And then a few hours of observation for them to locate the activity of the Rebel hub. Fovzak had led the ambush himself.

The Emperor will be so pleased with him. He'd flushed out the nest of rats, and now they're all scurrying to other parts of the universe. There won't be many more places for them to go soon.

And not all of them escaped. Such as the soldier unfortunate enough to be questioned by the Druid. Her screams are getting annoying.

The scar on his muzzle stretches uncomfortably as he bares his teeth in annoyance.

A loud crack rings through the air as a chunk of one of the temples breaks free, and falls to the ground. The whole base is falling apart.

“Commander? It’s destroyed enough, they can’t return here,” a Lieutenant advises him. He’s a young Galra, but loyal to his Empire. His teeth gleam white in the daylight as he pants between words. It’s too hot for any sensible Galra to want to stay here longer than they have to.

“Search it,” he hisses, stretching his words around the scar tissue that interferes with his pronunciation, “we need to know where they are running away to.”

The lieutenant nods briefly, ears folding back in submission, “ _vrepit sa_ , sir.”

Fovzak nods and dismisses him.

He meanders through the base. This is where the hangar once stood, this is where the soldiers slept. Here’s the rubble of where they kept their wounded, the caved in remains of where they ate. There are children’s toys under his paws, and he kicks them out of the way.

Everything is burning and reduced to rubble.

“Commander,” the Druid hisses from behind him, and Fovzak’s fur stands on end in surprise.

“What?” he demands.

He doesn’t know how Druids survive heat like this with their long robes and ornate masks. This one has horns and antlers adorned with plants and flowers, and colored lines all over the mask, powerful and archaic runes that Fovzak couldn’t begin to guess the meaning of. Most of the flowers are brown or browning. The whole thing must weigh an incredible amount.

“The soldier gave me some very interesting information,” the Druid confides, and the past tense means the soldier won’t be answering any more questions “and so I must leave you.”

“Leave?” Fovzak repeats, “you were assigned to my fleet!”

And what a high honor too, to be hosting a Druid assigned to them by the Emperor’s Right Hand herself.

“To secure new balmera, yes,” the Druid agrees, “but information has come up that I must inform the Matriarch of. As a member of her Coven, this must come from me directly.”

“There’s nothing that important that a call can’t handle,” Fovzak scoffs.

“It’s regarding her Champion,” the Druid says.

Fovzak sits on the High Council, which means he sees a lot of the old witch. He can only assume the Druids see her more. It means the both of them are very aware of her obsession with her feral alien.

“Is he dead?” Fovzak asks carefully. He wishes he could see the Druid’s eyes. He knows she must be looking at the five-fingered burn on his snout.

“Possibly,” the Druid says, and Fovzak can’t tell if she sounds pleased by this or not. They both know Champion’s tenacity to survive, “but you must locate him. The soldier said he was on a ship that was shot down— retrieve him or his remains. One of the Rebel Leaders was with him.”

“I’m to suspend my work here to fetch Haggar’s toy?” Fovzak spits.

“You are to retrieve an enemy of the state, and a  _traitor,_  so they can be brought to justice, as requested of the Right Hand” the Druid hisses, and Fovzak thinks he can see her eyes light up through the small holes in her mask.

An effective warning. Fovzak has no desire to suffer the nightmarish punishment the Druids can inflict. Only a fool antagonizes them.

“Of course,” he replies neutrally, “I will be glad to serve the Empire.”

“Good,” the Druid agrees, and leaves without a second word.

“ _Vrepit sa_ ,” Fovzak spits in her direction, and heads back for his ship. If he’s going to be slogging through the hot jungle looking for fugitives, he wants big guns to shoot down anything that gets in his way.

If he still had a tail it would be wagging. He’s going to come face to face with Champion— should he still live— and finally take his revenge. There won’t be much left for Haggar to pamper and spoil when he’s done with the human.

 

* * *

 

"Oh my god," Shiro says bluntly, startling the soldier. In a panic he starts running.

The dinosaur— a real, freaking  _dinosaur_ — catches the movement and starts running too.

Shiro was more interested in space than dinosaurs as a child, but this one looks like one of the big, meat-eating ones. It's got huge teeth and really, really long legs. It's also huge.

Shiro hits the dirt, on his knees, scrambling over the chains connecting all his limbs to keep him from running, and hustles as fast as he can.

There's a loud  _crack_  as the dinosaur brushes close to trees and snaps the branches clear off.

The soldier is screaming, and hobbling on his bad leg. Shiro's not doing much better. All they have is the head start the distance gave them, and, at this rate, neither of them are going to outrun the animal.

"Back to the ship! The fire will scare it away!" Shiro shouts. He peels off, hopes the soldier heard him, and runs. The ground shakes with the impact of the dinosaurs footsteps.

The heat of the flames hits Shiro and he stumbles into charred, hot ground, trips and falls onto some embers. He doesn't have his arms to catch him and skids on his face. He's spitting out soot as he leaps to his feet.

Shiro dives and crawls under some wreckage from the ship, still smouldering with fire burning in the broken trees around him. It's hot, it's so hot. He would rather leap into a cold body of water, and then drink it all.

To his left the soldier breaks out of the trees, and Shiro cranes his neck to be heard, "Over here!"

The soldier sees him, and Shiro sees the split-second that makes him pause as he decides, and then he runs towards Shiro. Shiro scoots to the side to make space. They're barely hidden, but with the fire and the smells, hopefully the dinosaur won't see them.

It breaks the treeline as the soldier joins Shiro. Shiro holds his breath.

"Don't move," he instructs.

The fur— feathers?— on the creature all raise in alarm as it sniffs around. It flinches from the burning trees and steps into the clearing, investigating.

It's got small eyes, a huge head, and walks upright on two thick legs, with two slimmer upper arms. There's a large frill down it's back that lays flat, but fluffs up when it's startled.

It's muddled in color, all browns and greens in ways that make it blend into the jungle.

It sniffs the ground, where Shiro fell, and starts following the scent.

Oh great, the dinosaur is also a bloodhound. Of course Shiro runs into a smart dinosaur.

The soldier is shaking beside him, and Shiro can feel him tensing to run. If they run, the dinosaur is sure to spot them. And neither of them can outrun it. If they hide it might find them, and then it's all over. What's the better choice?

The dinosaur sniffs up too much ash and sneezes, hopping away.

"Stay still," Shiro growls to the soldier, "don't run."

The dinosaur starts poking around at the edge of the wreckage. It's curious, but it seems to have mostly given up the chase. It's very wary of the fire and shies away every time the fire pops or cracks too loudly. It's gradually getting closer to them though.

"Don't move," Shiro instructs again. Everything in him is telling him to run, but between the two of them, Shiro is the one with chains around his ankles. He won't be able to keep up if they try to run.

The dinosaur gets closer, nose down and sniffing. The feathers on its face fluff and flatten as it finds things of interest, or gets startled by the fire.

It steps closer, and on it's heavy exhale, Shiro can smell the wave of it's revolting breath.

The soldier breaks and runs for cover.

"No!" Shiro shouts.

The dinosaur immediately spots the movement and opens its jaws, roaring, and springs at the soldier. Shiro hits the ground and tries to roll out of the way of its feet.

Two sparks of light— blaster fire!— ring out from behind them, catching the dinosaur in the nose and on the neck. It whines loudly and reels back, startled. One third blaster shot hits it in the chest, and it turns tail and flees with a whimper.

Shiro sits up. The soldier has fallen to the ground, collapsed with relief, and standing protectively over him, blaster drawn, is Slavka.

She stands unsteady on three legs, the fourth held off the ground in a way that means it's injured. She's covered in burns and soot, and her ears are pressed flat against her skull. Some fur has been burned off of her flank, and her uniform is ripped and frayed at the edges.

Shiro's never been so happy to see someone who hates him.

He pushes himself to his feet, and hobbles over towards her.

"Thank you," he says.

"Of course you would survive," she snaps in greeting, and points her blaster at him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Shiro informs her. He stops moving regardless. She has the blaster, and he has a useless prosthetic and broken armor.

Slavka's about to reply, but then she grimaces and shouts in pain, dropping her blaster. Her frail three-fingered hand is smoking. She wipes it against her uniform, and the fabric burns from the smear of liquid.

"Casing’s cracked," she admits, "I was surprised it fired at all."

The plasma contained inside of her blaster is leaking out and burning the leaf litter around it.

Slavka regards Shiro warily, now that she’s blasterless. Shiro holds her gaze and stays put. He knows she’s probably thinking about the video they watched last night. Of Shiro murdering those soldiers. Without her weapon she’s defenceless, but Shiro doesn’t want to hurt her.

The soldier groans at their feet.

"On your feet, soldier," she orders. There's no fondness or compassion in her tone, even though she'd just stared down a rampaging dinosaur with a blaster that might not even work, and a broken leg that means she couldn't have run away if she'd wanted to.

She cares a lot for her people.

That has to mean she's good somewhere deep down.

"Do you have a blaster?" she asks, and the soldier shakes his head no.

Slavka sighs angrily and points a thin finger at Shiro, "I will not hesitate to kill you if you step out of line," she informs him, "now, have you found any other survivors?"

"Get me out of these cuffs," Shiro asks, "then I can help."

"No," Slavka replies.

"I'm a sitting duck, and clearly you're going to need my help," Shiro insists, "I'm not here to kill you," he points at the soldier, "I saved his life. Twice."

Slavka narrows her eyes and looks to her soldier for confirmation.

The soldier sighs, possibly ashamed, "It's true, High General. Champion rescued me from the fire and then from the beast."

Slavka considers the information a moment, "I'm not taking the chains off."

"Why not? If you let me have my arm, then at least we have a weapon! You can barely walk, you have no blasters, and we're in the middle of nowhere!" Shiro points out, "if you want to live, you have to trust me!"

"I have to do no such thing," Slavka snarls.

"Slavka," the soldier says nervously.

"Are you fighting me, Gart?" she demands.

"No. Loyalty always," the soldier— Gart— says quickly, "but Champion does have a point. We need him."

"Quiznak!" Slavka shouts, "I'll fight off three of those quiznaking things with my bare hands before I let him out of those chains! You know what he did to Tsarr and his team!"

"You want to get me back to the Base so you can arrest me?" Shiro asks, "this is the only way we survive it."

Slavka grits her teeth, and looks around for some sort of answer, "Blast it all," she mutters, "fine."

Shiro's relieved. His back is killing him from supporting the weight of his deactivated prosthetic. It will be such a relief when that's activated and no longer so heavy.

"Where are the keys for the handcuffs?" he asks.

"Gone," Slavka shrugs, "unfortunately you'll have to get out of them yourself."

"Come on!" Shiro shouts.

Slavka rises to meet his anger, "You're the Galra!" she hisses, "use your teeth."

"Human teeth aren't strong enough to bite through metal!" Shiro informs her.

"Here," Gart says hesitantly, and approaches Shiro cautiously.

"I won't hurt you," Shiro tells him, and glares at SLavka, "I’m a Paladin of Voltron. We’re on the same side."

Gart steps behind Shiro and Shiro hears him fiddling with something on his prosthetic, there's a click and then his head goes light as his prosthetic activates. There's a chill down his back as the neural system reconnects and he drops to his knees. Gart and Slavka stand back and watch.

Shiro pulls his arm as far from his body as he can and activates it. It slices easily through the cuffs, and then he shifts so he can get at the chain connecting his ankles. He takes care to melt the cuffs off, and he throws them all into the fire.

"So what happened?" Shiro asks, "where did those Galra fighters come from?"

"We're going to find out," Slavka informs him, and points to their right, "there's a temple there. We gather what supplies we can here, get our position from there, and then we head for the base."

She starts off to lead them, and almost crumbles with her injured leg.

"Do you need help?" Shiro asks.

"No," she snaps.

It's slow-going, with Gart limping from his injuries from the crash, Slavka's broken leg. Shiro tries to stay near them while being aware of their surroundings.

They can’t find anything useful in the debris. They spend a full hour searching for survivors and find nothing but remains. It’s incredible that the three of them survived at all.

The trees look almost like they could be from earth, but there's streaks of colors in leaves or in the bark, or the texture of the trunk just isn't  _right_ , that remind him that he's not home anymore. That, and, the dinosaurs. That's a really big hint.

They crest the ridge of the temple. It's built into the slope so it gives them a great view of what remains of the Base.

There's a huge pillar of smoke in the distance. The base is burning. Several Galra Battle Cruisers hover over it.

"That wasn't just any attack," Shiro realizes, "it was an invasion."

"Likely because you let that ship escape," Slavka laughs bitterly.

"We can't go there," Shiro points out, "they'll kill us."

"They won't kill us," Slavka says, "they'll welcome you home with open arms, and take me to Haggar. Our meeting is a long time coming."

"But you still want to go there?" Shiro realizes.

"That's the only place on this savage rock that has any functional ships," Slavka says, "if we want to get out of here, that's where we need to go."

"Great," Shiro says darkly, "let's hike across miles of deadly jungle with no weapons and you with a broken leg, sneak onto a Galra-occupied base and steal a ship and escape."

"You forget the time limit," Slavka points out, "they're mostly likely going to take all the information they can find, and then finish destroying everything and leave. I would assume we have less than 24 hours before they leave, and we are stranded here." 

“If we wait them out, then our friends can come get us,” Shiro says.

“If we wait them out, they’re liable to destroy this planet,” Slavka says, “it’s a new hobby of the Galra. They’re getting very good at it.”

"Then what are we waiting for?" Shiro mutters.


	9. Chapter 9

"So what do you think?" Shiro asks. They've got a loosely sketched map on the ground of their path from the temple they're hiding in, and the base loaded with Galra.

"I didn't get a good glimpse of everything they hit, but the fence must have been damaged for sure. it means that so long as they don't restore the power, we should be able to climb it without dying," Slavka agrees.

"The walk should only take us a few hours," Gart says.

"A few hours if we all had good legs," Shiro points out, "you're still limping and Slavka can barely walk."

"I'll be fine," she says, "I've had worse."

"Have you?" Shiro presses.

"I just need a cryopod, then this won't even matter. It's only a short amount of pain. I can handle it," she snorts.

"Aren't you going to set it?" shiro asks, "it'll probably hurt less."

"Set it?" both Slavka and Gart echo.

Shiro feels a little weird that these aliens know so much about technology advanced way beyond anything earth could possibly come up with, and yet they don’t know how to set a bone?

"You're lucky I have first aid," he says, "but yes. We set it. We put the bone the way it's supposed to be, and brace it so it doesn't move. There's much less damage to you or your tissues, and it should hurt less in the end.:

"You brace it... with what?" Slavka asks. She sounds disturbed by the idea.

"Sticks, and we'll use some fabric from Gart's coat. It's all torn up anyways," Shiro says, "this is common practice on earth. Don't you learn any first aid out here?"

"That is barbaric," Slavka laughs, "you aren't touching me."

"I'll carry you if I have to," Shiro says, "but if you try and walk the whole way on a broken leg you're going to slow us down. We'll miss our chance to get out of here."

Slavka grits her teeth and glances to Gart, "Fine. Perform your ancient medicine."

She stands and keeps her leg close to her body. Shiro sends Gart to go find long sturdy branches to break off.

It leaves him alone with Slavka for the first time since they met.

"I... about the video," he says slowly.

"What about it?" she asks.

"The commander, Tsarr, I..." Shiro starts.

"That's enough of that," Slavka cuts him off.

“He was someone important to you,” Shiro insists, “and I wanted to say that I’m—”

“I said _enough_!” Slavka shouts, and looks away.

Her eyes catch on something on the wall and she chuckles, "Would you look at that? Aubra would be going out of his mind right about now."

Shiro looks up. In the frayed light of the temple, he can make out carvings and patterns on the wall. There's six shapes, all stemming from one large humanoid figure. The six shapes have four legs, and big teeth. It's all stylized, ancient and faded with time and overgrown with vines and plant life, but he realizes what it is.

"Voltron," he says in surprise.

"I suppose Voltron has existed for hundreds of millennia, so many civilizations would have stories about it," Slavka observes.

"But there's six lions here," Shiro points out, "and there are only five that form Voltron."

Slavka shrugs, "Perhaps their legends had six."

They fall silent, taking in the archaic mural.

"You called me a Galra earlier," Shiro asks, "why?"

Slavka turns to glare at him, "Because you _are_."

Shiro gestures at himself, "Clearly I'm _not_. I'm human and they kidnapped me and my crew, and forced me to fight in their arena for fun!"

"And yet the Galra have never let an outsider into their ranks! They’re notoriously xenophobic! But suddenly you were in the Emperor's private counsel, you sat on the High Council. You were the face of the Empire!" Slavka explains, "so tell me what I am to think about that?"

"I don't know!" Shiro says, "because I don't remember!"

"You're the future of the Empire," Slavka spits, throwing Shiro's words back at him, "so you tell me what I am to make of you. If you're not Galra, then do all humans share the same capacity for bloodlust as you?"

"Of course not," Shiro says.

"So then it is inherently a Galra trait. And as a Galra soldier, that would make you a Galra," Slavka says.

"Forget it," Shiro snaps, "I'm not Galra, okay? And I'm not... I don't think that was me in that video. That's _not_ what I'm like."

"I think you don't know yourself at all," Slavka informs him.

Gart returns before they can continue.He’s collected all the materials they need. It’s time to get to work.

"I don't like this," Slavka says warily.

"I haven't done this in a long time," Shiro says warily, "and you might want something to bite on to. This isn't going to be nice."

Slavka pulls the belt off of her uniform and winds it around her hand before placing the lump between her teeth. Shiro’s grateful she believes him in this at least.

"Gart I'm going to set her leg, and then I need you to hold the sticks to either side and wrap it with the strips from your uniform, okay? And we have to work fast," Shiro looks up to Slavka, "try not to kick us, okay?"

She snorts, and Shiro can hear her breathing deep as she prepares herself.

There's really no good way to go about it, and so Shiro doesn't do a countdown or anything to warn her, and instead grips and straightens her leg. It feels like a clean break to him, only in one place thankfully.

Immediately Slavka jerks with a shout, nearly rearing up on her hind legs. Shiro holds tight, feels where the bone is out of place, and uses all of his muscle, and the strength of his prosthetic, to pull and set it right. Slavka's cursing them through her gag, and screaming as her rear leg kicks out.

"Gart!" Shiro shouts, "go!'

Shiro can barely spare the hand to help hold the stick in place as Gart gets the first wrap around it to tie it down. They manage to get the two ribbons of fabric on it, holding it, and then are able to tie the second stick on, pinning her leg between them. They then use tighter loops to keep the splint in place.

It's rough, and very crude, but it will do.

Slavka's shaking, the horse-like part of her body twitches, when Shiro and Gart sit back in relief. Shiro's sweating. That was the most nerve wracking five minutes he’s had in a while.

Slavka spits out her gag, "That," she announces, "was terrible."

"You handled it well," Shiro says.

"We should get moving now," Slavka points out, still panting, "the fire will only keep the animals at bay for so long, and we want to make good time before nightfall."

"Yeah," Shiro agrees.

Slavka takes a few hesitant steps— still limping very slow— but Shiro can see when she registers that her leg isn't as painful as she expected it to be. He did well. It's rough, but so is most field first-aid. As long as she survives, he's done well.

Shiro leads the way out of the temple. The midday light is harsh and sharp, and he feels like he's walking into a sauna.

Slavka and Gart follow, staying a safe distance just behind him. Slavka is walking like she's not in pain, though she's hobbled badly. They have no weapons save for Shiro’s prosthetic, and there are huge dinosaurs in this jungle that would love to eat them up.

They make for a pretty ragtag team.

Shiro takes one last glance at the burning base, with the Galra fleet overhead, as he follows Slavka and Gart back into the trees. He hopes his team made it out safely. And that they're not planning on doing anything stupid.

 

* * *

 

"This is stupid!" Allura shouts, and kicks over a workbench Shiro had left in the Black Lion's hangar. It clatters across the floor, the sound echoes loudly in the large room. The Black Lion looms over her, silent and unmoving.

She can feel it, like she can feel all of the others. Their quintessence is a unique marker that almost feels like home to her. She’d know the Lions anywhere. They’re grand, old things, almost beyond any comprehension. Impossibly powerful, disturbingly quiet, and unreasonably tenacious. Especially about their Paladins.

The Black Lion has deemed Shiro it’s chosen, and sees no reason to open itself to someone new.

“Please,” Allura says again, “you must help me! I can feel your sadness! You miss Shiro too! We can go save him, together!”

There’s nothing.

Allura shouts, pouring all of her frustration into her voice.

She doesn’t hear Coran enter.

“Allura,” he says softly, and she leaps nearly her whole height into the air.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I’m, I’m finding it very difficult to connect with the Black Lion.”

“You will,” Coran assures her, “but… would it help to embrace who you are?”

Allura pauses, “What do you mean?”

In the presence of the Lion the two of them could drop the human appearances they use amongst the Paladins. It all depends if they consider the Lion to be a living creature or not. Allura hasn’t quite decided where she stands with that, but she maintains her soft human face. She’s grown accustomed to this face for Coran anyways, it’s easier to read his emotions.

Coran gives her a look. She knows better than to play the fool with him, “You have a very unique connection to the Black Lion. Don’t shy away from it.”

“My Malch is a monster,” Allura insists, “I cannot be like him.”

“You don’t have to be like him,” Coran says gently, “you never could be. But he is part of your heritage, as is the Black Lion. You have to accept that if you ever want her to work with you.”

Allura looks up at the giant Lion, “But won’t she hate me?”

“She knows your intention,” Coran says softly, “she could never hate someone so full of love.”

“Zarkon once loved my parents,” Allura muses, “once I thought he loved me too.”

“And he did,” Coran says, “he adored you. But… there was a darkness in his heart that overtook him. He wasn’t strong enough to keep it at bay. That is not your undoing. Don’t be afraid.”

“The Paladins don’t know,” Allura admits, “about my Malch. I… I am afraid of what they would think about me.”

“They would love you, just as I do,” Coran assures her.

Allura smiles at him, “When did you get so wise?”

“Well, when you’ve lived a few hundred years, you learn some things,” Coran declares.

“Careful,” she teases him, “soon you’ll be getting the slippries!”

“I’m not _that_ old,” Coran scolds her, faking outrage.

Allura laughs, and Coran bows respectfully. He’s always been so formal with her, even now after Allura’s parents are gone and Coran is the closest to family she has left. She doesn’t know what she would do without him.

Clinging to this formality, however small the action, makes it feel less like everything has changed. It’s a small grasp at normality in the sea of changes they face together.

Allura doesn’t run to hug him, even though she wants to. She dismisses him with a small nod, just as one would do if they weren’t the last of their kind.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says.

Allura turns back to the lion as he leaves. The insurmountable wall of the Black Lion’s mind stands against her, unyielding. Allura is not her chosen, she will not let her in.

Allura takes a steadying breath. She opens herself to the flow of life, as her mother taught her, to the similarities between her and the Lion, sees how quintessence moves through each of them. She stands before the Lion, opening herself to it, and drops her human appearance. Allura allows the Black Lion to see her true face. To see her true intentions.

She remembers sitting in the cockpit as a child, balanced on Zarkon’s knee. She remembers napping in the shade of the great beast, on the Altean fields. Her father, her Malch, the Lions. Voltron. All intertwined, a convoluted past. The Black Lion aches for the loss of Zarkon, as Allura does too. They are very similar.

Voltron calls to Allura like it’s in her blood. Being a Paladin is her herritage.

The Lion remains silent.

And then.

The dam bursts.

The Lion rushes out to meet her and Allura drops to her knees under the weight of it’s attention.

It’s speaking to her, in loud, shrieking sounds that were once language, now indecipherable and Allura covers her ears and screams.

The Lion surrounds her, fills her, claims her.

It will accept her as a Paladin.

She has won its approval.

 

* * *

 

They don’t go long before they run into trouble.

“Do you hear that?” Slavka asks, and all three of them freeze.

It’s a hum, a quiet murmur that’s so familiar that it didn’t even register to Shiro’s mind to be conscious of. But now that he is, panic seizes him.

It’s the sound of ships, flying low to scan the trees.

“Galra,” Slavka growls.

“Get to cover!” Shiro shouts.

“There!” Gart points. There’s a low entrance to what must be some sort of cave.

Gart races for safety. The engines are louder, clearer now. It's an entire squadron of ships. For them to be this far out, they're obviously looking for the wreckage of the transport ship. From there they'll be backtracking, tracing their path through the jungle to find them.

Slavka can't run with her leg as it is. She hobbles faster, limping and trying to keep her broken leg off the ground entirely, and with three legs she manages near enough.

"Come on!" Shiro shouts.

The ships are almost upon them. It's almost too loud to hear one another.

"Hurry!" Gart shouts.

Slavka crumples into the shelter with a strained cry as she jars her broken leg. Shiro crams in beside her, helping Gart pull Slavka’s hind legs in and out of sight.

The first of the ships cruises past, a loud roar that seems to suck the air from around them. Shiro presses closer to Slavka. Sees Gart's grip on her tighten. Slavka's ears are pressed back against her skull, and her tail lashes in aggravation.

A second ship goes by. The engines still aren't fading. A third ship, off to the crash site.

"They must know I was on that ship," Slavka realizes, "that's why they're sending so many."

"If they know you were there..." Shiro trails off.

Slavka frowns, "It's very likely they know you were there as well."

"Shit," Shiro hisses.

If they know that Shiro's here, away from his team, then the Galra know that the Paladins can't form Voltron. That will make them bold and aggressive. Moreso than usual.

Time stretches on until it feels like it's stopped. If the Galra know they're here, if they find them now, they can take Shiro. They can get him off the planet before his team can come back for him. They'll put him back in the arena again, they'll make him— they'll turn him into who he was on the video. Sadistic and awful and nightmarish, ready to kill. And laugh while he does it.

"Calm down," Gart says, and Shiro feels a hand on his arm. He's hyperventilating, he realizes.

The last of the Galra ships pass overhead, and now the sounds of the engines begin to fade with distance.

"Breathe," Gart instructs. Shiro nods weakly and tries to obey. It's a lot easier when he doesn't feel like the ships are right overhead, with the Galra following his scent and seconds away from finding him.

Slavka shoves her way out. She needs some help standing up, and shrugs Gart off instead of admitting her weakness.

Shiro struggles to his feet. He feels dizzy.

"Well, quiznak," Slavka sighs, "they'll be at the wreckage shortly, and then they'll be making their way back towards the base. We aren't going to make it in time."

"We can't just sit here," Shiro points out.

"Of course not," Slavka agrees.

"So then?" Shiro prompts.

"I just want you to be ready for a fight," Slavka says, "and I'm very interested as to who's side you'll be fighting for."


	10. Chapter 10

It's unbearably hot. They're still walking, no sign of the Galra ships. The wreckage of the ship probably spans several miles. it's going to take some time to check through it all.

Slavka's doing worse, and Shiro needs to think of a way to distract her from her pain.

"What's your story," he asks, "how did you end up fighting for the Alliance?"

"She doesn't just fight for it," Gart points out, "she's _leading_ it."

"Exactly," Shiro replies.

"I had no love for the Empire," Slavka says warily, "they took much from me. My planet was mostly destroyed by their resource farming, and they loved to arrest my kind for whatever crimes they could think of. My people are meek, docile. They have been trained to be servants."

Shiro snorts. He can't help it. There's no scenario he can imagine to see Slavka portraying any of those traits.

"We took after the Alteans," she muses softly, "as the stories go. They were dedicated to peace and unity, and we were their children. To pick up their cause; after they had gone. But those are just stories. I was arrested under suspicion of having attended rebel gatherings. At the time I hadn't, but I was arrested just the same. The convoy was attacked by Alliance ships, and they happened to take me back to their base. And the rest is history," she says.

"You leave out so much," Gart laughs, "she demanded to go through basic training, and no one thought a soft, delicate Trur would be able to do that. But she did, she thrived. And then forced her way into the High Generalship."

"Impressive," Shiro notes.

"She became High general after the..." Gart pauses awkwardly, "the loss of the last High General."  
Oh, Shiro notes. Tsarr. The one he killed. The one Slavka cared so much about.

"I'm..." Shiro doesn't even know how to say this, and decides to go for the truth, "I don't... I don't know what to say, but I want you to know that I—"

"Don't," Slavka interjects, "I don't want to ever hear you talk about him again."

Shiro clamps his mouth shut.

That's when a blaster shot takes off a branch just above Gart's head.

Shiro spins around. That purple color— it couldn't be?

There's a squadron of sentries and Galra running for them, silent as the grave. They must have started backtracking much earlier.

"Run!" Shiro shouts.

Shiro tears through the underbrush. It's so much easier to run with both arms so he can push aside anything trying to hit his face.

The shout goes up behind them. They've been spotted! The hunt is on!

Hoots and howls ring through the trees: Galra barking orders and shouting in their rough, guttural voices and language.

The snarls send a chill right to Shiro's stomach. Every time he hears their language he feels fear like nothing else he’s ever known. He can't let them take him again. He doesn't know much about his missing year, but he knows he can't go back.

Well, now he knows what they’ll make of him. Thoughts of the video— of watching himself torture and kill— flash through Shiro's mind.

There's blaster fire behind him. It tears up trees and knocks chunks of bark down onto him. Shiro hates the terror of being hunted.

A cry goes up behind him. It's Slavka. Shiro skids to a stop and turns.

He can see her— further behind him— and she's on the ground. Shiro's about to run, and then a line of Galra break the trees. They grab her— she's so small in their huge claws— and lift her in the air.

“No!” Shiro hears Gart shout.

She must have been hit with a stun setting, but she fights from her stupor and starts kicking and shouting. Her hands go to her belt for her blaster, but it's not there and she comes up empty.

Branches snap as Gart breaks through the trees near Shiro.

“We can't leave her,” he says, “we have to go back.”

“I don't think I can fight that many,” Shiro says. In fact, he knows he can't take on that many Galra.

“She's the head of the Alliance,” Gart insists, “if they take her, they'll destroy her. And the Alliance will suffer for it.”

Shiro looks around, “Well they won't be expecting us to charge them, but how are we supposed to— wait.”

The Galra have speeders. They're essentially floating snowmobiles, sans the runners. They can carry a big Galra, they should be able to carry three smaller passengers.

Gart follows Shiro's line of sight.

“You will have to distract them,” he says.

“Can you drive one of those?” Shiro asks, “I’m a pilot. I know I can get us through the trees,” Shiro says.

Gart considers this a moment, “Yes. Alright. I'll draw their attention, you get the speeder and get Slavka.”

Shiro nods quickly, a sharp movement of his jaw, “Be careful. Remember— in this heat you can outrun them. But you have to keep distance.”

Gart nods, “Keep her safe, Shiro.”

 

* * *

 

Fovzak slides off of his speeder. The step to the ground is only slightly jarring to his long legs.

The Rebel General stands on shaky legs, three guns trained on her.

“Where are the others?” he asks his crew. The sentries appear unaffected by the heat, the soldiers are all panting. Their tongues lolling out the side of their muzzles and their jaws wet with drool as they try to stay cool in the heat.

“Unaccounted for,” a sentry replies.

“Then find them!” Fovzak shouts, “they can’t have gone far!”

The sentry processes the words, hesitates, and then says, “Orders unclear. Please repeat.”

Fovzak hisses, and enunciates each word carefully around the burn on his lips, “Locate Champion and the other rebels.”

“Yes sir,” the sentry says.

The High General, in person is… not what Fovzak was expecting. The reports and stories have built her up to be a giant: both figuratively and literally. She’s the cunning mind, the bleeding heart, the strong hand and the loudest voice behind the Rebellion. She is imposing in stature, she can only be stopped in death.

She’s so small.

Her leg has been wrapped in some odd way with sticks and cloth. She’s not standing on it so it must be damaged.

“High General,” Fovzak growls, “I am Commander Fovzak. How nice of you to join us.”

Trur’s are great service creatures. They have no backbone to say no, and they long to please. They’ve been kept in great numbers for Feeding Days, as their docile nature and tender bones make them ideal meals. Fovzak is beginning to wonder if this Slavka isn’t just a figurehead for someone else who’s words she’s parroting.

It’s a wonder she’s still standing. She must have taken some hard hits in the crash landing. She’s covered in burns and scrapes, but she’s staring up at him without a hint of fear.

“Commander,” she says, and sounds like she’s being pleasant even though she’s sneering, “what an unpleasant sight you are.”

Fovzak bares his teeth, “We couldn’t resist your invitation to your base. Very thoughtful of you to leave us a calling card.”

“And now you have me,” Slavka says, “good job. How soon before I see your spineless, ancient Emperor?”

“The Emperor is eternal!” Fovzak snaps, “and you will show him respect!”

“When a tyrant sends the disfigured and the stupid to do his work, they loose my respect,” Slavka says, and she narrows her eyes as she studies him, “you look like you might have had an encounter with the Champion.”

Fovzak slaps her. It throws her right off her feet, “Stop! I know Champion is with you, so tell me where he is?”

“Didn’t survive the crash,” Slavka says, and spits blood onto the ground, “I’m the only survivor.”

“We know there are others,” Fovzak says, “tell me!”

Slavka shrugs, “It’s only me out here.”

She pushes herself to her feet. Insolent prey! Fovzak could rip her in half with just his teeth if he wanted. His claws itch to dig into her skin— give her some fear to loosen her lips.

But if she is the High General, she will not break easily.

Fovzak lumbers forwards and bends down to crowd into her space. He is predator, she is prey. Even centuries after the Trur stopped being hunted by those that would eat them, the instincts remain. He can see the dilation in her pupils as her instincts beg her to run.

“You will tell me where Champion is, and where the rest of your Rebel scum is hiding, or I will _make_ you tell me,” he rumbles. He talks slowly to be clear, though he’s sure she understands exactly what he’s saying.

Slavka almost nods in agreement, and then there’s a spark of defiance in her eyes. She strikes upwards, punching him in the nose. There’s a _crack_ as the bones her delicate three-fingered hand snap on impact

Stars dance in his vision, Fovzak reels back with a snarl. His lieutenant strikes her with the butt of his blaster between the shoulderblades and knocks her to the ground.

Fovzak yells as his nose smarts, and he walks away from the High General, snarling furiously.

That’s when he spots a Rebel soldier stealing one of their speeders.

“After him!” Fovzak shouts.

The sentries and all but one of the Galra rush after him. The soldier spooks at being spotted, and manages to activate the speeder and start off before he can be shot.

“We need to get her back to the Fleet,” Fovzak instructs to his Lieutenant, pointing at the high General, “restrain her, and load her onto my speeder.”

The Lieutenant drags the Rebel General away. Fovzak watches where his squad raced into the trees. Bold of the Rebels to sneak right into the middle of their pursuers to take a speeder, but it does make tactical sense. This would be the fastest way to return to the Base and any hope of escaping this planet.

Which means… did Slavka allow herself to get caught? Anyone less important than her ran a high risk of being killed rather than transported. And if that’s the case, then now being alone, without his squadron— _this is a trap_.

“Get your blaster ready,” Fovzak orders as he turns, “we’re being watched!”

It’s only as he turns that he sees the blur of movement as Champion swings down from a tree, clinging to a vine, and kicks his lieutenant right in the snout. Champion lands next to the speeder, and has already leapt onto it as Fovzak is startled out of his shock.

“No!” he shouts.

Champion spares him a brief look, and Fovzak can’t believe it’s him. That’s truely him: the traitor, alive and in the flesh.

Champion looks shocked to see him, and then he activates the speeder and he and Slavka roar off into the jungle.

Fovzak draws his own blaster and fires after them. He nearly takes Champion’s head off, but loses sight of them far too quickly.

“Champion has the High General,” Fovzak orders over the comms, “and has stolen my speeder! Find them!”

 

* * *

 

“Princess,” Wyme greets, standing to attention. The noise of the room settles as Allura enters.

“Are we ready?” she asks.

Wyme nods slowly, “It is not the force we would like to have, we will be fighting with the odds against us, but we will have the high ground. And we will be taking them by surprise.”

“And you’ll have Voltron,” Coran adds.

Allura smiles warmly at him, “It sounds like we have everything we need.”

“Allura,” Coran says, and there’s a tone to his voice that makes Allura begin to worry, “there is something else. We’ve become aware that not all of the files were properly wiped during the evacuation—”

“The Galra may be able to hack our network,” Wyme interrupts, “and that puts us all in great danger.”

“How do we stop that?” Allura asks.

“I can do it,” Pidge says, “but it means I have to stay out of the fight for a while. Kidjen and I have a system rigged up, that we’ll attach to Arc and Brave-Sue’s ship. We’ll jam their system from the nearby moon, but I need to be there to hack it.”

“Which means we’ll be fighting without Voltron,” Allura notes.

“Yeah,” Pidge says.

“And keeping those files from going out is nearly more important than the rescue,” Wyme insists, “as much as I want to save our leader and… and Shiro. If the Galra hack into our network, then they will get everything. Our allies, our staches, our bases and our plans. The Alliance will be finished.”

Allura wants to argue, but it’s true.

“So we have to destroy the fleet, all of it,” she surmises, “before we can look for Slavka and Shiro.”

“Yes,” Coran agrees.

Keith and Hunk don’t look very happy about that. No one does.

“We’re going in with a small force and no Voltron, with the goal to destroy an entire fleet before they can get out information that will crush the entire resistance,” Lance says, “I see nothing that could go wrong here.”

“Hey,” Hunk scolds him.

“Oh, do you see anything crazy about this plan?” Lance asks.

He has a strange tone.

“Is that sarcasm?” Allura guesses.

“Of course not,” Lance says, and Hunk elbows him.

“It is,” Pidge says, “because this _is_ kinda crazy.”

“It will be the kind of battle legends are made of,” Allura insists.

Coran glances over and smiles at her. She’s so relieved to have him here.

“The Black Lion and I will lead the charge. I’ve put enough energy into the Castle that Coran will be able to pilot it himself through the interface. It has a strong shield and strong weapons, though it will be slow-moving.” Allura takes a deep breath, “I know this is terrifying. I know we’ve just run from near-death, and now we are returning again to face it. But I believe in the courage of good people, and I believe in the power of hope. And right now, we are the only hope for the universe. If we do not stand against Zarkon, then no one will. So muster your courage, and follow me into battle!”

The Paladins can barely be heard over the triumphant cheer.

 

* * *

 

Wyme catches up with her as they head for the hangar.

“That speech…” she smiles fondly, “you remind of Slavka.”

“Truly?” Allura says in disbelief.

“Quite a lot,” Wyme agrees, either ignoring or not having heard Allura’s shock, “you two are very similar. I can see that you were destined to lead, and for great things. Just as she is.”

Allura nods, and hesitates before she speaks, “Well, thank you. I have a request— since you are a magic user, will you travel with Coran? The Castle was designed to be flown through quintessence, though of course there’s a very useful interface for those like Coran who do not have the gift. But I think your help will be greatly appreciated.”

“An Altean ship,” Wyme’s eyes widen, “I… would I even begin to understand the weaves?”

“I think of anyone I’ve met so far, you would be the most capable,” Allura assures her, “the Castle is meant to help, too. It will guide you. Just be open to it.”

“Of course, Princess,” Wyme agrees, “I would be honored.”

Allura feels like she might be impersonating Shiro’s bravado a bit, perhaps it’s the connection to the Black Lion she can feel hummin in her mind. But she smiles for Wyme as if there’s no way this mission could fail.

“Now lets save the universe,” she orders.


	11. Chapter 11

“Why wouldn’t you just go with them?” Slavka asks as Shiro wraps her hand.

Shiro pauses to look at her like she’s asked a stupid question, “They’re Galra,” he says, like that explains everything.

They’re waiting at the meeting point that Shiro and Gart picked out earlier. There’s only a few more minutes left for Gart to get back to them, or else Shiro and Slavka have to move on without him.

“They’re _your_ people. Despite everything you’ve done, you were Haggar’s favorite. She would welcome you back,” Slavka points out.

Shiro shakes his head, “I don’t know her. I don’t remember any of the things you’ve shown me or— or even that Galra with the scar on his face. It wasn’t me that did that. That’s not who I am.”

“Who _are_ you then?” Slavka asks.

“My name is Shiro,” he insists, “I’m not Champion. I’m not Haggar’s pet, or a traitor. I am the Black Paladin. I’m a pilot. I’m a human from earth, and I want to help people.”

Slavka narrows her eyes, like she’s not sure how to handle this information.

Her hand is swollen, and it’s likely that she’s fractured bones in it from punching the Commander.

Shiro has to admit he’s been very impressed by her bravery so far. But striking a Galra twice her size could have ended badly.

The Commander’s face had been badly disfigured by a prominent burn on the end of his muzzle. It twisted and melted his lips so he was hard to understand. But the burn was the worst part. It was clearly made with a weapon in the shape of a human hand. A five-fingered, right hand. Just like Shiro’s prosthetic.

“Do you remember why you attacked the Commander?” Slavka asks.

Shiro shakes his head.

“That’s less worrisome,” she shrugs, “Galra attack each other all the time.”

Shiro glares at her, so she amends, “You must have been playing along to their culture.”

He’s not sure if it’s an insult or not.

“What makes something as delicate as you into a High General?” Shiro asks. He means how fragile her bones are. It’s a shock she didn’t break more in the crash landing than just her leg.

“You lose everyone close to you, and you realize that it all could have been prevented,” Slavka replies coldly.

“The… in the video. Tsarr. He was the previous High Commander?” Shiro presses.

“My fiance,” Slavka clarifies, “who left a void to fill in his absence. I’d spent enough time working with Tsarr before and during our engagement, so I was the perfect candidate for the job. He would have hated to see me with the two stars,” she adds the last as an afterthought. Shiro feels a knife twisting in his guts.

They’ve deactivated the tracker in the speeder, which makes them nearly invisible to the Galra. It’s going to make the trip back to the base that much faster. Even if the company is unpleasant.

“But it’s good that I trust my instincts. I knew we couldn’t trust Voltron,” she points out, “and they were hiding you.”

“You’re welcome for saving you,” Shiro points out. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Slavka considers that a moment, “I had it under control,” she concedes, “but their breath was foul. I suppose this is marginally better.”

Shiro gets up and walks away from her to keep from saying anything more that might dig himself deeper. There’s really nothing he can do to redeem himself in her eyes. Why does he want her to stop hating him? He killed someone she loved.

Why is he helping her? She hates him— she wants to see him get _executed_ for things he doesn’t even remember. She’s rude and condescending and was willing to let innocent lives die instead of letting a ship escape.

She might have been right to stop the ship on that last call. But even after all this, Shiro can’t find it in himself to regret saving the prisoners. Maybe that says something about his abilities as a leader. Slavka’s considered the head of the Alliance. She’s someone that everyone looks up to. Maybe Shiro isn’t that great of a leader after all.

“We have to get going,” he finally says. Maybe if he starts acting as cold as she does, then she’ll warm up to him, “Gart’s not here.”

“He’s probably been captured,” Slavka says warily, “and I don’t know how long they’ll keep him alive.’

“Long enough,” Shiro insists. He wants to hope they can save him.

The sun has continued climbing in the sky. They’re into later afternoon now. He can’t believe that just yesterday he and his team were excited about making contact with the Alliance.

Slavka struggles to get to her feet. Shiro doesn't step in to help her.

Situating the two of them on the bike is difficult. Slavka has to take up most of the seat, facing  backwards and keeping her broken leg sticking out the back to let it stay straight. This forces Shiro to have to squat to give her space, or press up against her to sit down. Neither of which are pleasant.

The speeder hums to life and Shiro lets off the brake, eases on the power and they clip off into the jungle at a fast pace. It's not breakneck, like how they were travelling when they fled from Fovzak, but it's faster than walking. Branches and leaves don't hurt as they brush their faces, and the hum of the engine stays very quiet in case there are nearby ears.

It gives Shiro a lot of time to think.

There's a Galra out there with Shiro's handprint burned into his face. There's videos of Shiro killing and torturing Alliance soldiers. Shiro can remember his first fight in the Arena and he can remember hurting Matt to save him.

He doesn't know how all of these things add up. They don't make sense in the grand scheme of events that have molded Shiro into who he is. He's afraid to know what led to all of this. There has to be some explanation— like when he thought he'd hurt Matt to prove his bloodlust.

"Shiro," Slavka hisses suddenly.

Shiro snaps his head up, expecting Galra.

They're following a small creek. They'd stopped by it upstream to drink from and to bandage Slavka's hand. Shiro's been following it back to base.

There's another dinosaur across the water.

"Oh quiznak," Shiro mutters.

"Don't move," Slavka orders, "it may only respond to movement."

They hover, tense, on the speeder. The dinosaur doesn't move an inch. Some of it's feathers are disturbed by a breeze.

Then, hooting hyena-cackle Galra laughter. There's the murmur of voices, and several bodies moving through the brush. The dinosaur draws back its lips to expose rows upon rows of knife-sized teeth, and Shiro spins the speeder and takes off away from it.

They break the tree cover, into an open expanse, right across from the Galra squadron.

Shiro calculates a plan in all of two seconds, "Hold on!" he shouts.

He doesn't hear if Slavka responds, and hits the acceleration. They rush right at the stunned Galra.

Fovzak stands up on his speeder, "Champion! You will surrender—"

And that's when the dinosaur breaks through the trees.

Chaos erupts in the Galra ranks.

“Lean left!” Shiro shouts, and throws his weight to turn the speeder on a dime. He's pretty sure Slavka's yelling, and he's not sure if it's at him or the Galra.

They speed off out of the way of the Galra, leaving the dinosaur charging right at their enemies. Shiro scans as best as he can, but he doesn't see Gart amongst them.

The dinosaur leaps onto the Galra force, not yet deterred by their blaster fire or snapping jaws. There’s screaming behind them.

Shiro doesn't have the luxury of time to think about that. He takes off full-speed into the trees again. They have to put distance between them and the Galra once more. The trees whip by, so fast that Shiro can barely think, only react. And hope it's the right reaction.

"We're being followed!" Slavka calls.

Shiro can't look back to see.

Blaster fire hits trees on either side of them. Shiro tries to zig and zag as much as he can. The speeders aren't made for finesse like this, and it handles bulky and slow in evasive movements.

Shiro doesn't actually see where it hits, but he feels the impact when they're struck by a shot. The entire speeder shakes, enough that it gets completely out of Shiro's control at this speed, and as he tries to correct, the front clips off of a tree, they skid out into a spin, and there's another impact against a tree and Shiro's shot from the speeder and skids several feet.

Shiro rolls through the leaf litter, coming to rest across a tangle of raised roots. His head is still spinning, everything aches, but the Galra are right behind him.

"Slavka?" he shouts, and rolls to get to his feet. She doesn't have a weapon. He's supposed to protect her. That’s what a Paladin would do.

There's blood in his mouth— he can't tell if it's from his mouth or his nose just yet— and he spits it onto the ground. His chestplate creaks as he moves, cracks spreading through the material as it takes more abuse.

The speeder is wrapped around a tree, sparking and crackling with damage.

Fovzak glides out of the trees in front of him. While he's on his speeder he towers over Shiro, and he clearly enjoys it.

"Hello Champion," he says gleefully, "you look like you’ve had some trouble.”

Shiro shifts his weight to his back foot to be ready to leap anywhere, and activates his arm. What a relief to hear that familiar whir of quintessence—

_wham!_

Fovzak slaps him so hard he spins before he hits the ground.

Shiro’s dazed and trying to figure out which way is up. Fovzak’s big, pointy toes fill his vision, and then a large hand grabs him by the throat and lifts him to face height. Rotten breath washes over Shiro’s face.

“Do not try to run,” Fovzak orders, “you are _my_ prisoner now.”

Shiro grabs at the big paw around his neck, unable to breathe. A sneer twists itself up Fovzak’s large mouth.

It’s the last thing Shiro sees as he passes out.

* * *

Pidge sets the Green Lion down on the dark side of the moon. Kidjen breathes a sigh of relief as they settle.

"I can't believe you're scared of flying," Pidge teases.

"I'm scared of how _you_ fly," Kidjen corrects, "I never want to go into battle with you again."

Pidge reaches out to pat Green’s console in front of them, and puts on a baby-talking voice, "He didn't mean it girl, everyone loves you."

Pidge feels a hum in their mind that makes them think Green understood that.

The two of them don their spacewalk gear, sealing their suits against the void of space, and then head out.

Arc and Hesitant-Sue are with them, and landed a short distance away. They carried all the things Pidge and Kidjen were able to put together to make a short-range jamming signal, and allow them to hack into the Galra network.

They have approximately 45 minutes before this moon rotates enough that they can activate their signal. The downside is that, as soon as they do so, the Galra will know where they are.

Arc and Strong-Sue meet them halfway, using the subdued gravity to carry the large loads of equipment. Pidge knows they're about to be going into a deadly battle, but they can't help but enjoy this part. Building, working with friends, puts a smile on their face. They're going to save Shiro, and they're going to do it together.

As a final touch Pidge connects their system to Green. She's going to be the initial power source and the interface that Pidge works out of.

Arc, Kidjen and Awed-Sue join them in the cockpit. It's a pretty tight squeeze.

"Alright, lets see what we're working with," Pidge mutters.

Green feels excited, like she wants to flex her claws or wiggle her butt. She loves getting involved in this kind of stuff.

Pidge pulls up a quick schematics of the surrounding area. There's a big Destroyer hovering just outside the atmosphere, and some more Battle Cruisers. It's definitely a full fleet they're dealing with. Each ship is going to be carrying enough fighters to put up a good fight.

"I wonder if we could jam these ships," Pidge muses, "and keep the fighters from launching."

"We have to disable that ion cannon on the Destroyer," Arc points out, "if we get below it, we're in trouble."

"But firing that at the planet means firing at their own people," Pidge points out, "they can't do that!"

"THEY CAN AND THEY WILL," Soldier-Sue says.

Pidge nods, "Okay, okay. Let's send what we're seeing back to Allura. The Castle functions on such old channels that I don't think anyone's using them anymore."

It's kind of funny that it takes a few minutes to load their connection to the Castle, until Pidge thinks about how far this signal is sending. Then it's just cool.

The screen lights up with Allura's face. It's a little alarming to see her in Shiro's black armor.

Well, it's not Shiro's. The castle came with extra armor and the ability to make more, which makes sense, but that's still the pattern and colors that Pidge associates with Shiro. They can't wait until Shiro's back and everything can go back to normal.

"Pidge, how are you doing?" Allura asks. She's standing on the Bridge, and there are a lot of people behind her. It's weird seeing strangers in the Castle.

"We're great. Here's what we can see so far," Pidge says, and sends the information, "Arc pointed out that we'll need to get that ion cannon right away before we can go planet-side or that'll be a big issue for us."

Allura's eyes get a little distant as she scans all of the information, "Yes, that is a good point. But if we stop to focus on that, then we lose the element of surprise. The Lions will have to engage that, while the rest of the force rushes the base. We need to take out their means of transmission before you can join us."

"So we can't have Voltron to take out that ion canon," Pidge agrees. They don't like it, but in order to hack the Galra system and maintain a signal strong enough to hold them back, they need to use Green and her interface. It just means leaving their friends hanging while they fight for their lives and all Pidge can do is watch.

"We have no chance without you, Pidge," Allura assures them, "your team is vital to this entire operation. Now, do you have any information about Shiro?"

Pidge has been running a scan for any mention of Shiro or Slavka. They shake their head.

"Maybe we should broaden our terms," Kidjen points out, "the Galra might be calling him Champion, since that's his Galra name."

"He's not a Galra," Pidge insists automatically.

Kidjen agrees, but only to avoid conflict. Pidge adjusts the parameters of their search field, and get a ping.

"They have him," Pidge gasps, "and Slavka too. The Galra found them."

"They're alive," Allura says, relieved.

"They've brought them back to base and— oh no," Pidge says.

Allura's eyes widen, "Pidge? What is it?"

"The Destroyer, it just... it got a message. It's transmitting it to the ground now, but, um, we're going to get some company very soon," Pidge says nervously. They read over the information again, to be sure they got it right.

"What is it?"

Pidge feels some burning hate for the witch that poisoned Shiro, and spits out, "Haggar. She just informed this Commander Fovzak that she's going to be coming to get Shiro and Slavka herself. She'll be on her way with her own fleet of ships very soon."

Allura's eyes widen, and though she tries to control her face, Pidge can see the fear and the rage in her expression, "We don't have the strength to fight a fleet like that. We will have to be fast, then. Pidge, get as much information as you can, and begin blocking their signals immediately. Give us the word. We are waiting to wormhole on your command."

"Yes ma'am," Pidge salutes briefly, and then adds, "be careful, okay?"

Allura smiles warmly, like everything's going to be just fine, "Of course we will."


	12. Chapter 12

_Everything is_ not _going to be just fine,_ Allura muses. Haggar is coming to take Shiro. Why she cares so much after she just tried to kill him, Allura cannot comprehend. But having to face down a Druid of that power, and another Galra fleet on top of that? It's too much.

The mission gets harder by the second, but they can't back down now. The future of the universe depends on them.

"Allura," Coran says carefully, glancing over his shoulder. He does the work of ten Alteans without complaint, and then some. While Allura flies the castle through quintessence, Coran does not have any magical connection. So he must pilot  it through skill and muscle memory. He’s spent many nights reading how to properly use the interface so that he won’t hold her back.

They haven't had much time to talk since their chat in the Black Lion's hangar. When he encouraged her to embrace her heritage.

She loves him so dearly. Why couldn’t he have been her parents’ primary?

"It's going to be tough," Allura agrees, "but I think this army is more than capable."

"That's not what I was going to say," Coran says, and he steps away from his station to join her for a moment, "I need to do this before we get into the thick of things, but I need you to know how proud I am of you."

"I'm not doing anything remarkable—"

Coran cuts her off, "You are so brave. Your parents would be so proud if they could see you right now," and he tears up a little, "I am so proud to be here with you."

Allura bites her lip to keep from tearing up too, "You already said that," she points out.

"You're a Paladin," Coran continues, and he's going to make them both cry at this rate, "just like I knew you could be. Just like your father, and your Malch."

Allura grimaces, so Coran lays a hand on her shoulder, "For all that Zarkon has become, there was a reason the Black Lion chose him. You are born from people of legends, and I think you are going to be greater than any of them ever were."

"Coran," Allura gasps, and she leaps forwards to throw her arms around him. He hugs her back tightly.

"I'm so happy you're here," she tells him, "and me— much of what I am was learned from you. You are as important as my parents or my Malch in shaping me to who I am today. Thank you."

Coran holds her tighter, and she can feel the hitches in his breath as he tries to get a handle on his tears.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," she assures him.

Wyme, the Paladins, and the Alliance soldiers on the bridge are giving them some privacy, but this isn't the time for tears. Allura pulls back and wipes her eyes. Coran smiles warmly at her, and bows as he takes his leave back to his station.

"Wyme," Allura calls, "stand with me a moment. I want to introduce you to the Castle."

Allura will be generating the wormhole, as she is most in tune with how the Castle functions, but after that Wyme will be taking over direct communication with the quintessence of the Castle while Allura deploys in the Black Lion.

The Lion is anxious in Allura's mind. Not anxious in that it is afraid, a Lion would never be afraid, but in that she can feel the upcoming battle. She does not fidget, but Allura gets the sense of stretching out claws, of being ready to sink teeth into prey. No wonder her Paladins get so excited for a fight, with their Lions bleeding into their thoughts like this.

After this battle, she will have to begin their training so they can keep themselves and the Lions separate. It will do more harm than good to keep a Bond open so long.

Wyme steps up beside her, and Allura threads some of her quintessence into the flow of the castle. After a moment, she sees Wyme copy the weaves and do the same. She's a fast study, and knows much that Allura doesn't. Should they all survive this, Allura would like to train with her as well.

Allura introduces Wyme to the Castle, and guides her through the overwhelming welcome. The Castle has not met a new friend in a very long time, and it is so delighted that it's nearly unbearable.

But once it's settled, and Wyme can feel it's quintessence humming under her feet, above her, all around her, then it's easy to show her how to ask. That's the greatest skill a pilot can have, for the Castle. Just to ask, and the Castle is happy to comply.

They get the signal from Pidge. The lines are jammed, the Galra can't send any information. It's now or never if they want to save the future.

Allura lets Wyme follow her spells as she summons a wormhole.

"Prepare yourselves," Allura announces, and through the Castle she's connected to the whole fleet for a moment so they can all hear her over the comms, "this will be difficult, but on the other side of this battle is a bright and promising future full of hope. Let's fight for that."

* * *

Shiro’s head feels like it’s made of cement. He’s in the dark, he can’t see. He rolls with a groan and tries to find his feet.

There’s soft fabric under his hand, and he pauses.

A gasp, feminine, nearby.

 _“I knew you would come back to me,”_ a woman’s voice says, and Shiro thinks he feels the phantom touch of fingers on his cheek, _“stay put. I’m going to bring you home.”_

Wait. He knows that voice.

“What do you want?” Shiro demands. He prepares for an attack.

There’s the rustle of fabric, a soft hand cupping his jaw, and Haggar’s low laughter.

_“There’s no need to act for me. I know who you truly are.”_

And Shiro can’t see anything but darkness, but in that moment he _knows_ to the core of his being that Haggar can see him.

Shiro jerks awake, terror thumping in his heart as he looks around for Haggar. He's in the holding cell of a ship, hands cuffed together. This time they're in front of him, small mercies. Shiro struggles against his chains but his prosthetic is dead weight again.

It's exactly how he remembers being chained when he was taken into the Arena with Matt. They'd removed the chains right before the fight, and that was when he'd attacked—

Shiro shakes his head. This isn't the time to get lost in thought.

He's on a galra ship. He's stuck in a prison cell, again, and they're going to take him back to hell again.

He thinks about the burn on Fovzak's face, and the video. His face filling the screen, _"I am the future of the Empire"_.

_“I’m going to bring you home.”_

They did something to him, to make him a monster. Shiro can't let them do it again. He can't become what they want him to be.

So. Escape.

He thinks about the wrench that he bit through— the soft alien metal. These cuffs look similar. Maybe he can...

It tastes awful. Worse than sucking on pennies. The metal is nearly acidic, and the links feel hard enough to break his teeth. Shiro bites down and pulls, grinding his teeth.

The metal shears.

Shiro's free. He stares at his hands in amazement. For all that they're so advanced, they don't have anything better to hold prisoners with? There’s no way human teeth are the only things capable of breaking these metals. There has to be something wrong with the design.

Escaping the cell is much easier. The bars on the cage are spaced wide, more for a Galra, and Shiro takes a few tries to heft his heavy prosthetic so it will reach the panel on the wall beside him. His Galra prosthetic interfaces perfectly, and the bars retract into the ceiling. Shiro steps into the hall. This is... almost too easy.

There's only one other cell that's activated. Shiro walks to it, and feels a sigh of relief when he sees both Slavka _and_ Gart inside.

Shiro opens the cell and steps in. Gart looks much worse than he did before. He's been beaten, and there's a wound on his shoulder that's probably from a blaster.

Both he and Slavka flinch away when Shiro walks in.

"Hey," Shiro holds up his hand to calm them down, "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm saving you."

"How did you get out?" Slavka asks warily.

"The chains," Shiro shows them the cuffs still around his wrists, dangling broken chains from either one, "they're super soft. I can bite through them."

"You can what?" Gart asks.

Slavka laughs, "It's not soft you _fool_! But it would be to a Galra’s fangs."

"I'm _not_ a Galra," Shiro growls, "so stop saying that if you want to get out of here."

Slavka doesn't apologize or look remorseful, but holds out her hands and stretches the chain taut. Her one hand is very swollen, as is her leg.

It's a little weird, but Shiro kneels in front of her to bite the chain. It cuts cleanly, and Slavka inspects the cut while Shiro does the same for Gart. Gart gets to work trying to deactivate the clamp on Shiro’s prosthetic that’s keeping him from using it.

"Now we need to commandeer this ship," Slavka orders while Gart works, "and kill all the Galra on my base."

"Your base is overrun and destroyed," Shiro points out, "we need to get a fighter and get out of here."

"A fighter can't go far," Gart adds, "it'd be best to have a larger ship for travel. Slavka's right, we should take this ship."

There’s a grinding sound as Gart removes the blocker, and Shiro almost doubles over as his prosthetic reactivates. It makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Shiro groans, "Alright. But we're going to need weapons. I'll go find some."

"Alone? I think not," Slavka says.

"They had me in a cell like you," Shiro points out, "I think it's safe to say that I'm not working with them."

"Because you're a traitor to everything but yourself," Slavka explains, "you will do whatever it takes to survive."

That seems like a pretty low opinion of him. Shiro scowls.

"Well you're not in any shape to be sneaking around," he says.

"I have an idea," Gart says, and glances at Slavka, "but you won't like it."

* * *

As they predicted, there are sentries standing outside the doors.

"Halt," they order, "where are you going?"

Slavka and Gart keep their heads bowed.

Shiro steps forwards, and tries to remember how he looked in the video, when he was with Haggar. Truthfully, he didn't look any different from himself, "I'm escorting these prisoners."

"There are no orders—" the sentry begins.

"My orders come from Haggar herself," Shiro cuts it off, "she wants me to bring the Rebel Leader to her."

The sentries hesitate, and in that brief moment before they call for clarification, Shiro strikes. His arm activates mid-swing and cuts right through the sentry's neck, severing the head. The second doesn't have time to react. Gart dives for the blaster at its belt, while Shiro strikes forwards and stabs his hand through it.

The sentry falls with a crash. Slavka's working at the other one, trying to draw the blaster, but with one broken hand and her other too weak and delicate to grip it, she has trouble.

"Can you even shoot?" Shiro asks. He reaches down and lifts it for her. It's a hefty gun, made for a sentry twice her height. There's a reason she had to have a modified blaster.

"I'll make it work," Slavka growls. She snatches it from him and manages to hook it under her bad arm before she can drop it. It looks laborious to carry, but she sets her jaw.

There's no blaster for Shiro, but he doesn't use them much anyways.

"Head for the bridge," Slavka orders, "and hope they're all out crawling in my base and not in our way."

* * *

The Destroyer is a huge ship. Large, black against the white background of the clouds on the planet below it. Only the lights along its hull give any sense of life to it. The ion cannon— a much larger design than what the Battle cruisers carry, sits atop like a deadly promise.

The Black Lion sees it all, and is ready to engage.

Allura has been in this cockpit before, with her Malch. He wanted to introduce her to the Black Lion from a young age, wanted to share his pride with his legacy. She has so many fond memories of Zarkon, it's hard to correlate them with who he's become.

Who he always was, Allura reminds herself.

The Black Lion is absolutely magnificent. She attunes to Allura's quintessence, answering every thought or whim with one of her own. They move as one, racing away from the Castle as the Destroyer and the Cruisers are turning to fight them.

The battle has begun.

Fighters are deployed on both sides, and the vastness of space is filled with the light of blaster fire. The ion canons are charging, Allura can read the shift in energy around them.

"Paladins!" she calls, "with me!"

They charge for the Destroyer. Pidge has the shields disabled, so they can attack it directly. This would be so much easier with Voltron. If they _can_ form Voltron.

Allura has bonded with the Lion. They have yet to discover if she can bond with the Paladins as well.

It's absolute chaos around them. Allura's used to being behind the action, in the Castle. The Lion moves so much faster than the Castle, it's so much more aware. She feels overwhelmed.

"On your left!" Lance shouts, and Allura realizes a moment later that he's talking to her. The fighter hits her hard, knocking the Black Lion off course. Allura scrambles to right it.

"Princess!" Coran calls. He must have seen the strike.

"I'm fine!" Allura insists. The Lion is damaged, but nothing serious. She will still function, "the ion cannon! Target it!"

Hunk flies past her, and the Yellow Lion's grand maw opens wide to fire a powerful energy beam, slicing into the metal hull of the ship at the base of the canon. Lance follows up with a similar attack. The ship is well fortified. Even this onslaught won't stop the cannon.

One of the cruisers deploys their cannon early. The shot is weak, but even weak it can still destroy ships. The beam hits the shields of the Castle and Allura holds her breath. The shields hold.

Alliance fighters are streaming down, entering the atmosphere to lay waste to the Galra ships and technology on base. Their goal is to keep them grounded. There are still Alliance prisoners down there, and they want to avoid unnecesary casualties.

Allura activates the weaponry system, and joins the Paladins. They circle, weaving and dodging as fighters try to swarm them, and Destroyer’s  target the ion cannon. It's charging, beginning to light up with power.

This would be so much easier with Voltron. But without Pidge and the Green Lion keeping the Galra from transmitting anything, they could win the battle and lose the war. Allura has to believe this is the right choice.

* * *

Shiro leaps to tackle the sentry as Gart fires on the other two. They go down with a crash, and he's already running for the end of the hall. Surprise is their only real advantage here, and they have to keep themselves as secret as possible. Which means allowing for no time to sound an alarm.

The halls are disturbingly familiar. They're all Galra design, dark and lit with purples and pinks, and every corner they round make Shiro's heart seize with terror. What other horrors will his past reveal to him? What else is waiting in the darkness?

His dream haunts him. He can feel Haggar’s eyes following him wherever he turns.

They do get lucky, finally, in that they don't run into any Galra. Sentries are easy to destroy. Galra much less so.

Slavka is breathing heavily, still carrying her oversized blaster. Shiro can't quite believe she's still standing.

The bridge is mostly empty, as this cruiser is just idling on the surface of the planet. Everyone’s down on the ground, stretching their legs or enjoying the fresh air as they work. They strike down the remaining sentries and Gart leaps into the pilot's chair while Shiro locks the doors behind them.

This feels almost too easy.

“Odd,” Slavka says, “the… there’s no communications incoming or leaving. I think they’re being blocked.”

“Our rescue party,” Shiro realizes.

And that’s when a wave of Alliance fighters fire on them, tearing up what remains of their own base and the Galra below.

“Yes!” Gart cheers. The interface is lighting up around him as the ship activates.

“Shiro, get on the weapons,” he orders.

Shiro runs to a station, engages the system. He takes control of the blasters on the ship, and turns to face the nearest Cruiser. There are Galra and sentries running up the long plank connecting it to the ground. Shiro aims up, to destroy the engines, and fires.

It takes two rounds of shots, but the ship sinks and then crashes to the ground.

Shiro turns the guns and focuses on the next. By this time they’ve had the chance to raise their shields.

Speaking of—

“Shields up,” Slavka announces from her station.

“And we’re good for liftoff,” Gart says, and engages the thrusters.

Only one fires— and the ship spins wildly.

Shiro clings to his station to avoid being thrown.

“What the hell was that?” Slavka demands.

“Someone cut the power to the left engine,” Gart realizes, pulling up schematics, “if they get to the other one, we’re grounded.”

The other cruisers know that this ship has been taken over. They won’t hesitate to destroy them, so sitting still isn’t an option. Especially with the Alliance fighters bombing everyone and no way to tell them that this ship is friendly.

“Can we still move?” Shiro asks.

“We have enough energy to stay afloat, but I can’t take off. And these shields can only handle so much,” Gart says.

“I’m going,” Shiro says, “I’ll get the engine back online.”

“Not without escort,” Slavka growls.

“You have to trust me,” Shiro insists, “there is no other choice.”

He’s right, and she knows it.

“Fine,” she declares, and fixes Shiro with an icy glare, “good luck, Shiro.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Pidge we need you!” Allura decides. They’ve been battling with the Destroyer for too long. If they don’t use Voltron now, they won’t be able to win. There will be no Alliance force left.

“I’m coming!” Pidge shouts.

Hunk takes heavy damage protecting Keith. The Black Lion isn’t faring much better. Shiro might have made a different call. Perhaps he would have risked bringing Pidge in earlier, rather than let more Alliance fighters be shot down.

“Can we really form Voltron without Shiro?” Keith asks.

“Allura can do anything!” Lance declares proudly.

Allura reaches into the bond with the Black Lion. This is going to require so much trust, and opening herself up to the Paladins. She’s not sure she’s ready to share that much with them, but it’s the only way to win.

The Green Lion is nearly with them.

“Alright team!” Allura announces, and tries to channel Shiro’s confidence, “let’s form Voltron!”

The Lions open their connection and bare their minds to one another. Allura loses sight of the battle as she’s overwhelmed by the humans. It feels like she’s being ripped apart, and sewn together with the wrong parts. But they’re not wrong— they’re part of her. Her arms and legs and her body, they’re all parts of _other_ that create a whole. Their minds unfold, four—five— _ten_ of them— spread open so wide that they spill into one another with no reservation.

Allura could withhold herself, but she deserves to give them the same trust.

She must train her humans to keep their minds more contained in the Bond, lest they leave something behind, or in each others’ thoughts.

She opens herself up to them, and she knows when they see it. Sitting on Zarkon’s knee as he pilots the Black Lion through beautiful nebula storms, sees her delight at her Malch coming home and bringing her gifts, or exciting her with stories of far-off worlds. They see now, her special connection to the Black Lion. They see her running to her parents— all three of them— as a child when she was afraid.

She expects their fury. She feels it from Keith. Confusion as well. Disbelief is there.

But overall, she feels sympathy. She was cared for, trusted in her Malch and loved him dearly. He held her warmly, defended her from harm. And she was betrayed.

“We’re sorry,” one of them says, or it’s the emotion she feels from them. She’s quite overwhelmed.

“We’ll never hurt you like that,” they insist, and it’s backed with the strength of their Lions.

Allura is invigorated with their support.

Shiro is on their mind.

They are of a single purpose: to find Shiro, and bring him home.

The Lions and their Paladins, from across time and space to bring them to this moment, coalesce into one purpose, and from this a miracle occurs.

Voltron is born.

* * *

Shiro races down the halls, his footsteps echoing loudly. There's explosions outside, muffled through the walls. Battle, fighting. Shiro should be out there, he should be with his team. They can't form Voltron without him.

Slavka announces directions for him over the PA system. He takes a sharp right, heads through a door. The halls get narrower. It’s hotter here, by degrees, compared to the cold air of the Galra ship. He must be getting close to the engine.

It’s only a few more doors, before he arrives. The engine room is huge. Like on the Castle, there’s so much space, and a long way to fall if he goes over the guard railings. There’s a narrow walkway to the crystal that supplies the engine with its power, and there’s a Galra standing in front of it.

Shiro can recognize the shape of his ears, and the style of his armor. It’s the Commander. He must have been on the ship when Slavka, Gart and Shiro stormed the bridge.

“Fovzak!” Shiro shouts.

Fovzak turns with a growl, “Champion! I have orders to take you alive, if possible. Stop testing my patience.”

Shiro looks at the long walkway between them. With the Galra being so top-heavy and ungainly, he has a good chance of knocking the Commander off of it. But he’ll need to get him to walk out there, first.

Shiro steps forwards, “Who are you to me?”

Fovzak hisses, “As if you don’t know! Don’t insult me!”

“I don’t,” Shiro insists, “I don’t remember anything about my imprisonment.”

“Imprisonment,” Fovzak laughs, and the cackling hyena-shrieks fill the room, “you sat in the lap of luxury! You were spoiled rotten and you loved it.”

Why does Shiro have all these scars then? Why does thinking about that year fill him with such terror?

Shiro wants to ask more questions, but he needs Fovzak to meet him halfway even more, “You sound jealous.”

“Jealous! Of a pet? Never. You scammed your way into the Emperor’s council, but I _worked_ for it! I earned it!” Fovzak’s yelling, forgetting himself as he moves to meet Shiro.

“And yet,” Shiro says, and makes a point to look at Fovzak’s scar, “it looks like I bested you.”

Fovzak roars, and Shiro has a split second to hear the crack of his jaws unhinging, before Fovzak lunges forwards. His jaws snap closed like a vice, making such a heavy sound that the air rings with it. Shiro narrowly avoids losing his head. He reels backwards, arching his back, and Fovzak’s teeth slam closed inches above his face.

Shiro hits the ground and kicks out, knocking one of Fovzak’s legs out from under him. The Galra tumbles, over extended from his attack, and falls onto Shiro.

There’s not enough room on the walkway for them to roll much. Shiro activates his arm. Fovzak hears the _whirr_ of quintessence and gears, and springs backwards, crouched on all fours and barring his teeth. Shiro snarls back.

“You’re a plague to the Empire! A distraction!” Fovzak accuses.

“I never wanted to be!” Shiro tells him. Fovzak draws his blaster as Shiro rushes him. He’s going to try something really, really stupid.

As Fovzak takes aim to fire, Shiro closes his hand over the muzzle of the gun. It melts under his touch, not fast enough. The shot fractures, shooting out in all directions and striking the walls. Shiro twists his wrist, bending the blaster enough to make it unusable. The casing cracks, and plasma begins to leak out.

Shiro remembers Slavka’s hand burning.

“You reveled in your vileness,” Fovzak snarls, “you lorded in your power. I’ve never met something as rotten and terrible as you!”

“That’s not me!” Shiro shouts.

 _“I am the future of the Empire!”_ he can hear himself saying. He can see that grin on his face, the blood in his teeth.

_‘I’m going to bring you home.”_

“Then who are you?” Fovzak roars.

Shiro twists the blaster out of Fovzak’s claws. He squeezes to break the casing further, letting the plasma inside ooze out between his fingers.

“My name is Shiro,” he declares, “and I am the Black Paladin of Voltron!”

“The Black Lion would never choose something awful like you,” Fovzak shouts, “lies! You have always been a liar!”

Shiro hurls the broken blaster at him. This close his aim is true, and he strikes Fovzak in the neck. The plasma splatters out, getting into his fur and dripping down under his armor. It takes a moment to burn through, and then Fovzak realizes what Shiro’s done.

He screams, frustration and pain, and claws at his fur to try and clean it out. Shiro stands his ground, watching as the Commander strips out of his armor. His fur is sizzling, Shiro can see wisps of smoke from the chemical burns. It smells like burned flesh.

Fovzak tears out chunks of fur, dropping them to the ground. He looks pathetic.

“You cheater!” he shouts, “you underhanded, wretched, little monster!”

Shiro approaches slowly. The Commander crawls as he whimpers, trying to wipe the plasma off of himself and trying to back away from Shiro.

Shiro doesn’t want to kill Fovzak. Not when he’s pathetic and crawling like this. Fovzak makes his way back to the main platform, and he whimpers as he burns. In the worst spots Shiro can see his skin bubbling.

“Surrender,” Shiro says, “and we can get that taken care of.”

“A Paladin,” Fovzak scoffs, “an ally of the Rebels? You swore the oaths to uphold the Empire. You swore your allegiance to Zarkon! Does none of that matter to you?”

“I don’t remember it,” Shiro admits.

Fovzak sneers up at him, “It doesn’t mean it’s not true. You’re a traitor with no loyalty to anyone.”

It’s not that much different from what Slavka said to him.

Maybe they both have a point.

“I don’t know who I was, but I know who I am,” Shiro insists, “and I’m someone who wants to show you mercy. Do you surrender?”

“Mercy? Your Rebel scum will kill me, slowly, if they take me,” Fovzak tells him, “does that make you feel good?”

“No,” Shiro shakes his head, and smiles grimly, “they want to kill me too.”

Fovzak’s ears flatten against his head and his teeth are barred in pain. He looks like an animal. Shiro can’t help but think of how Slavka insists he’s a Galra too.

Fovzak laughs bitterly, “We’ll die as comrades in the end. I can’t think of anything worse.”

* * *

Shiro doesn’t get the chance to activate the other engine. Slavka calls him back to the bridge. Fovzak drags his feet, head bowed in shame as Shiro escorts him. Shiro found some handcuffs to secure him, but the Commander just whines pitifully. He reeks of burned flesh and fur.

Slavka and Gart meet him halfway.

“It’s over,” Gart confirms, “we… I think we won.”

They keep Fovzak at gunpoint and walk him off the ship. A Galra cruiser in the Alliance’s control is a huge addition for their fleet.

There are fires everywhere. Crashed and burning ships, destruction as far as the eye can see. What was once an active base is now completely rubble. It’s dark out, the moon is high in the sky.

Gart looks up, and gasps. Everyone stops to look up as a shadow falls over them.

Shiro takes in the glory of Voltron descending to join them, silhouetted by the full moon.

Fovzak laughs, “I thought _you_ were the Black Paladin?”

“Quiet” Gart orders. Fovzak shakes with laughter.

Shiro’s stomach drops and he can’t take his eyes off of Voltron. He’s never seen it from the outside. Because he’s supposed to be _part_ of it. How did they form Voltron without him? He thought they were helpless— no, not helpless— but that they needed him. Like they need all of the Paladins, to function.

If they don’t need him…

“If they can form Voltron without you,” Slavka comments, “then you can’t be that important after all.”

“Yeah,” Shiro mutters.

Voltron was formed without him. But he’s supposed to be the Black Paladin! How did they replace him so easily?

Where does he belong?

* * *

It’s hard to feel miserable when he’s tackled by his team. Shiro’s never been so relieved to see everyone. Lance and Hunk are crying, Pidge won’t let go of him, and Keith hovers so close he might as well become Shiro’s new shadow.

Allura pulls off the black helmet. She looks exhausted, but her eyes are lit up like she’s never felt so alive.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she says, “but first, lets get off this planet.”

“Please,” Shiro insists.

Shiro joins Keith in the Red Lion to fly back, as Allura has more room in the Black to transport Slavka. Gart squeezes in with Hunk, and Pidge’s friend, with the one eye, is tagging along with Pidge.

Which means Lance gets to bring Fovzak, tied up and secure in the Blue Lion’s small cargo hold. Keith snorts as they watch Lance doing an excessive number of barrel rolls as the five Lions ascend.

They return to the Castle, and it feels a little weird to be walking out of the Red Lion. Keith doesn’t go more than a step from Shiro’s side.

All things considered though, the cool blues and whites and tall halls of the castle finally make Shiro feel like he can relax. This is familiar, this is safe.

But a thought strikes him, as he sees Allura exit the Black Lion. Is this still his home?


	14. THE END

The new Rebel base is cold. It’s almost a relief from the hot jungle. Except it keeps reminding Shiro of the Galra ships. He wants to get back in the Castle and leave soon.

He’s lucky he didn’t suffer any serious damage during everything. All of his cuts and scrapes and bruises are going to have to heal the old-fashioned way, since he can’t use a cryopod.

Slavka spent four hours in one, healing all of the injuries she’d suffered. Gart needed some extra time. Shiro hasn’t seen him, but heard he was going to make a full recovery.

Wyme and Allura have been thick as thieves, and Shiro’s not sure how to feel about that. He hasn’t left the Paladin’s quarters much. He mostly wants to stay on the Castle, where people don’t gasp or scream when they see him, but it feels too much like he’s being trapped there. And he hates that even more.

He also knows that if he stays on the Castle he’s going to see the Black Lion. He can still feel her, ancient and old and powerful, in the back of his mind, but he’s afraid of what’s going to happen. She accepted Allura. While he’s grateful that the team was able to use Voltron, he’s also terrified of the implications. He’s replaceable. And so soon after finding out more about his past. Did the Black Lion see that, through their bond? Is she rejecting him because she’s realized that Shiro’s a monster?

He knows the others have seen the video. They way they look at him, the way they square their shoulders to defend him… they saw him killing. They saw what the Galra made of him, and Shiro’s not sure how to handle that either. How can they trust him, as a friend and as a leader, when they know the awful things he’s done?

There’s a knock at the door and Shiro gets to his feet. The door opens before he can reach it, and Allura enters. She’s alone.

They really haven’t talked about her taking control. Not that there’s been time, but Shiro’s not sure what he wants to say. He may have been avoiding this.

“Hello,” she says softly, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” he says, “I think. Nothing a good sleep won’t fix.”

“I’m glad,” Allura smiles, “it’s been a rough few days for all of us.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees.

This is small talk. They’ve never done small talk. They’re not small talk people.

“You piloted the Black Lion,” Shiro says bluntly, “does this… does that mean you’re the Black Paladin now?”

Allura shakes her head, “Well… in a sense, I suppose. You, um, you weren’t around for it. But I do have a personal connection to the Black Lion. You see… Alteans require a third partner in a marriage to have offspring. This is their primary. My parents chose Zarkon, as theirs.”

Shiro’s sure his eyes are as wide as dinner plates, “Zarkon is your father?”

“My Malch,” Allura insists, “that’s the Galran term for parent. Or, well, for life-giver. It’s more applicable to mother, in your language. Sorry, I’m rambling,” she takes a breath to continue, “I believe that’s the only reason the Black Lion allowed me to help. Because of that connection I have. But I do not wish to take this title from you.”

“But you could,” Shiro points out, “I’m a liability. I’m dangerous.”

Allura frowns, “You’ve spent too much time with Slavka. You are absolutely an asset to this team, Shiro. The Black Lion chose _you_ , not me. You are the Black Paladin.”

“After everything you saw? What we’ve heard about me? Am I really someone you want leading your team?” Shiro asks.

“Yes,” Allura insists, “because as an Altean, I have to believe that there’s hope for everyone. And as a friend, Shiro,” her voice drops to a kind tenor, “I forgive you.”

Shiro doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t… he wasn’t expecting those words.

Allura holds up her hands, and between them forms the Black Paladin’s helmet, “I’ve been practicing with Wyme,” she admits, “I’m getting to be a tad arrogant. But this, this belongs to you.”

Shiro lifts his hands automatically, and accepts the helmet. He touches it lightly, as if it might crumble at his touch.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“We want you on this team, Shiro. We trust you. We fought for you and we will defend you from anyone who wishes to hurt you,” Allura insists, “you are my Black Paladin. Let that settle your fears.”

Shiro’s eyes feel watery and he looks away before Allura can see.

“We are meeting with Slavka, Aubra and Rahjim soon. I would like for you to be there,” Allura says, “the Paladins know the way, if you ask.”

Shiro nods, “Okay,” he chokes out.

He hears the door open and close, and he doesn’t have much time before his knees give out and he slumps back into his chair, clutching the helmet like it’s a lifeline.

He can still be the Black Paladin. He can still be useful.

Shiro thinks of the blood on his hands, and how much more there probably is that he doesn’t know about.

He can never be a hero. But at least, maybe he can start working for his own redemption.

* * *

“You look like shit,” Slavka says when she spots Shiro just outside the conference room, “and like you should be chained up.”

She’s wearing a clean uniform, and has a blaster on her belt again. Wyme is at her side.

Keith bristles and Pidge presses close to Shiro, stepping just in front of him.

“Nice to see you too,” Shiro tells her.

Slavka snorts. She doesn’t say anything more as they head inside.

The Paladins take their place around Allura. It makes it a little crowded around the circular table. Across the way, the hologram-projections of the other High Generals activate.Rahjim and Aubra’s holograms flicker occasionally as if on a loop.

“Slavka, Shiro, we are happy to see you alive and well,” Rahjim says.

“And with a Commander!” Aubra adds.

“What’s the news on any of the other captives?” Rahjim asks.

“We took lots of casualties, and many of the Galra taken captive killed themselves rather than betray their Empire. Commander Fovzak is in secure holding while we question him,” Slavka explains.

“Good. Keep us updated on any information he shares,” Rahjim says.

“If I may,” Slavka adds, “from what I understand, Princess Allura and Voltron were integral to the entire operation. I would like to express my sincere thanks and gratitude, and I would like to extend the same to Shiro.”

Shiro frowns, staring at her.

She makes eye contact with him, “I would be dead or in Galra custody without you. Your quick thinking and bravery made it possible for this to be a victory, and for me to still be here. Thank you.”

Shiro’s stunned speechless. As is most of the members present.

Allura recovers first, “Voltron is happy to create a union with the Alliance, as partners,” she says carefully, “we will honor our agreements.”

“And we will honor ours,” Rahjim says.

All eyes drift back to Slavka.

“I think you’re all fools,” she grunts, “but I am outvoted. The human formally called Champion, now Shiro: the Black Paladin of Voltron, is pardoned of his crimes against freedom and the Alliance.”

Lance whistles a cheer so loud that it makes everyone wince, and Pidge and Hunk clap excitedly. Shiro breathes a sigh of relief. He’s being pardoned— he’s not sure if he should be— but he’s not going to be hunted down by their allies anymore.

“We look forwards to what the future holds,” Rahjim says, and cuts his feed. Aubra says a brief farewell before leaving.

“Thank you,” Shiro says to Slavka.

Slavka waves him off, “I want you and your team off my base before I change my mind. You cause too much chaos.”

“I’m fine with that,” Lance says.

“Wait,” Shiro steps forwards, moving across the room towards Slavka and Wyme, “Wyme you… you can look into my mind, right, to read my intentions?”

He doesn’t miss that Slavka’s hand drifted back to her blaster, or that Wyme braced herself for an attack.

“Yes,” Wyme agrees carefully, “I could.”

“Will you?” he asks, “I… I’ve been learning a lot about myself. I think I’m someone good, but I need to know for sure.”

“Are you sure?” Allura asks, coming up on Shiro’s side, “we believe you Shiro, you don’t have to prove yourself.”

Shiro shakes his head, “With everything going on, I don’t trust myself to know anything, honestly. I need to know for sure. Am I who I think I am… or are all the things everyone says about me true?”

Wyme glances to Slavka, who nods approval.

“Be gentle,” Allura says to Wyme.

“This will not hurt,” Wyme promises, “just relax.”

She lifts her hand, keeping it inches from Shiro’s face, and Shiro closes his eyes. He can feel a buzzing sensation, a tingle over his body. He thought there would be heat, maybe a spark like static electricity. Instead he smells ozone and petrichor, just hints of it that he knows aren’t coming from anywhere else.

Wyme drops her hand and when Shiro opens his eyes he can’t read her face.

“You are who you say you are,” Wyme says. She sounds dazed, like she can’t believe what she saw.

“Told you!” Pidge shouts, wrapping their arms tightly around Shiro.

Shiro’s speechless with relief, “Thank you.” He hopes she can understand the weight of those words.

“We’ll be taking off shortly,” Allura announces, “gather your things and return to the Castle.”

“Princess,” Slavka says, “a few last words, if I may?”

“Of course,” Allura agrees, and the two of them slip off together.

Shiro lets the Paladins drag him back to their wing.

He’s good. He means to be good. Things are going to be okay.

* * *

Hoth is beautifully white below them. The bridge is open and calm in how few people are present. The mice won’t stop climbing Shiro, and he’s just accepted that they’re going to live on his shoulders until they’ve calmed down from their excitement in having him home.

It’s only been a day, but so much has changed.

“Where to next?” Pidge asks.

“Slavka gave me some coordinates of interest for us,” Allura says, “I think we should decide on where to go next.”

“But first,” Coran insists, “a little break. What do you all say to taking a little vacation for ourselves?”

“Aye-aye sir!” Hunk shouts. Lance laughs at him.

“Can we afford to?” Keith asks.

“Dude, we have been though, like, the _worst_ day of our lives!” Lance yells, “besides, I think of anyone, Shiro needs the break!”

“Well,” Allura says, “I do have some ideas of places we can go. We can strategize our next moves, but perhaps in a nice, leisurely atmosphere.”

“No dinosaurs,” Shiro adds, and Pidge and Hunk laugh loudly.

“First stop, pool party,” Lance declares, “next stop: the Universe!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Pidge berates him, but Hunk cheers loudly, and then they’re all laughing.

It feels right to be here, surrounded by smiles and friends. Shiro knows the truth of who he is, and he knows this is where he belongs.

It’s good to be home.


	15. Epilogue

“You asked to see me?” Wyme says as she enters Slavka’s office.

“What did you see in Shiro’s mind?” Slavka asks, “you were too quick to accept him.”

Wyme gestures and the door to Slavka’s office closes and locks. They wait a moment, in silence, to confirm that no one is listening in.

“You needn’t worry about him,” she confides, “I didn’t need to explore his mind much further than the outer edges. It… it’s been destroyed. [Whatever he did to anger the Matriarch, for her to cast him out, she tried to kill him](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7877566/chapters/20127274).”

Slavka’s eyebrows raise, “Perhaps that’s what we should be asking about. If it’s enough to disturb the Right Hand. He must know something that she doesn’t want him to share.”

“I don’t think he can. I’ve never seen a creature survive such damage,” Wyme explains, “he should be dead, by all accounts. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. But you don’t have to worry about him much longer.”

“Oh?” Slavka prompts.

“He’s dying,” Wyme confirms, “the trauma to his mind is so… so awful. It’s killing him. And I believe the bond with Voltron and his Lion will only make it worse. The mental strain will be too great.”

“How much longer does he have?” Slavka asks.

“Not long,” Wyme admits.

“And you didn’t tell him this?” Slavka presses.

Wyme holds her gaze, “I thought I should inform you first,” she says.

Slavka smiles, and then glances away, “I like Shiro,” she admits, “he could be useful. But since he can’t tell us anything, he’s better off to us dead than alive. Don’t tell him, or anyone, about this.”

“Loyalty always,” Wyme vows.

Slavka reaches into her pocket, and feels the weight of the datacore that holds the video of Tsarr’s last moments. She’s memorized the sounds of his screams, and the look of Champion’s face as he killed.

“Loyalty always,” Slavka agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who jumped into this continuation of the Switch series with me! The world of Tomorrow I'll Switch the Beat only grows larger as we go on. 
> 
> If this was your first foray into this series, I hope you enjoyed yourself, and that maybe you're curious about other things!
> 
> If you've kept current with the series until this point, I hope you noticed all the references, and you see the consequences to some of Shiro's previous choices!
> 
> The series will continue, I can promise you that. There's still so much that Shiro doesn't know, and more that he wants to learn about. Plus, taking down a Galactic Empire is never an easy job, but thankfully the whole team is there to help!
> 
> Big thanks again to Gitwrecked for the incredible art! Fovzak and Slavka jump right off the pages, and I couldn't have asked for a better partner <33
> 
> Huge thanks to all of you who read this story! Hope to see you in the next installment!


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